Venomous
by JudithVB
Summary: Rosalie was snarky, snobby, and cynical - a stereotypical Slytherin. She's back for her sixth year at Hogwarts, returning as captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, and main rival of James Potter. Complete.
1. Preface

**Preface**

I was born to be a Slytherin.

A pureblood with ambitious and cold parents, a ruthless attitude, and a lust for power and knowledge. I always wanted the upper hand in every situation, and I wasn't afraid to fight for it. I was intelligent, not with a logical mind, like Ravenclaws, but with a determined, narcissitic one. My decisions were usually made by what I thought would be best for me, or I would choose the option that benefited my family and I the most.

Yes, I was a stereotypical Slytherin.

No one was surprised in the least bit when the Sorting Hat screamed out I was to be put in the House of the Snakes. I was accepted without a doubt, welcomed with open arms like my brother and sister had been.

And James Potter was the spitting image of a Gryffindor: an arrogant sense of bravery and loyalty, but a lack of wits. And, just like his parents and cousins, he was put into Gryffindor as soon as the hat touched the crown of his head.

Of course, there were a few exceptions to these standards, but not many. Throughout my entire life at Hogwarts, it was usually easy to tell who would be put in what House. But, then again, I was good at telling that type of stuff.

James and I had always had an unexplained rivalry. I suppose it was because we hated each other's houses, and since I was an obvious Slytherin and he a Gryffindor, we were destined to bicker constantly. I could never like someone like James, and he could never enjoy the company of someone like me.

It got worse when we both started playing Quidditch. I was extremely aggressive while he was very cocky and so confident. While we had fairly equal teams, we were both so anxious to prove we were better and more talented. I cannot explain how enraged he was when his brother Albus was sorted into Slytherin and joined my team; he is probably one of the best Seekers Slytherin has ever seen. He has won us many games.

I was an excellent chaser, but so was he. When we got into fights on the pitch, we usually need to be physically ripped apart. Now that I look back on all of those fights, I'm a bit ashamed by my foolishness. I should be better than that, but he knows just what buttons to press to make me go mad. I can't stand being in the same room as him for longer than three minutes.

He drives me crazy, to say the very least. Albus Potter is, however, a very different story.

Yes, Albus has many Gryffindor qualities, but he's enthusiastic and desirous - respectable attributes. He's mostly quiet and attentive, not loud and obnoxious like James, and an amazing Quidditch player like all of the Potters. I don't mind having a conversation with him; sometimes, I can even relate to him.

The Potters are an admirable and honorable family, though. They're close and love each other dearly, something my family doesn't have.

I have two siblings: Marcus and Mariette. Mariette is attending her last year of Hogwarts and my brother is working for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Both are notorious Slytherins, and its sometimes difficult to break free of their shadows. But my aspirations are very different from theirs: I want to continue in Quidditch. My father is not upset with this decision, but my mother is extremely opposed and doesn't support this idea.

My family is one of the well-known Slytherin, pureblooded families. Marcus and Calliope Flint are fierce. They have a reputation that becomes them. But my family was never close, and it never will be. Sometimes, I can't stop myself from wondering what I would have been like if I'd been born into a kind family with parents who actually loved me. Would I have been different, a stranger to my personality as of now? Or was I destined to be so dark?

I'll never know.

But this is reality. And its never going to get better.

My name is Rosalie Flint, and this is my story. My life.


	2. The Express

**Chapter One - The Express**

Steam flowed from the coal-black engine in clouds as a whistle screeched through the air. That did not help my splitting head ache.

"Mariette, take care of your sister," Father told her sternly. "Keep her in line." Then, he turned to me and took my shoulders. "Never stop striving to be the best, Rosalie. You are a true Slytherin with honest ambitions. Make me proud, and lead the best Quidditch team Slytherin has ever seen."

Yes, it was true; I had been chosen as Slytherin's Quidditch captain, and I'd never been more joyful. Mother hadn't been interested in the least bit, but Father had been so pleased.

"I will," I told him, kissing his scraggly cheek. He gave me a pat on the shoulder before turning to say goodbye to Mariette.

"Good luck, little sister," Marcus II said to me, shaking my hand formally.

Mom just nodded her head at me, blonde hair barely making any movement because of her lack of enthusiasm. I didn't respond to her, only turned to walk behind Mariette with my trunk in hand.

I hated having to be so polite with my family. Why couldn't we joke around, laugh, and hug each other like a real family? I couldn't bring myself to understand why they despised me so much.

Following my light-haired sister, we boarded the Hogwarts Express in silence. The mindless chatter of other students filled the long corridors, some children in large groups while others stayed side by side with someone else.

I didn't really have any friends or acquaintances at school. The group I usually hung around were other pure-blooded Slytherins, my age or older. I even had a boyfriend, Matthias Avery, who I was very careful around. But none of these relationships felt true. I'd certainly turn on any of these people if it meant more glory for myself, and they'd do the same for me. Our connections were like glass; if someone threw a stone, it would shatter.

I sound like a villan, I know. The evil and detested protagonist, so engulfed in pride and narcissistic views. And thats the truth, I'm afraid. Long ago, I accepted this fate and personality when I discovered that nothing would ever change. This is who my parents raised me to be; a monster. So if you were looking for a gleeful, light-hearted story with gushy feelings and happy endings, turn away. For you will not find it here.

"I'm going to find Regina," Mariette told me dismissively, waving her hand. "I'll see you later, Rosalie."

I nodded my head stiffly and kissed her cold cheek before sliding a compartment door open. It revealed all of my companions at school: Matthias Avery, Blake Zabini, Georgiana Ruthford, and Veronique Goyle. Slipping into the tense room, I easily levitated my trunk onto the rack above the sitting area and closed the compartment door.

"Rosalie Flint, how are you darling?" Georgiana asked lazily, not bothering to get out of her seat. She looked so much like her mother, Pansy.

"I'm well, Georgiana. And how was your summer?" I took a seat next to Matthias, who wrapped his arm around me possessively, and then crossed my legs politely.

"Good," she replied. "My family went to Paris for our annual summer vacation and stayed at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, no doubt."

I nodded before turning to look at Matthias. "And how are you?"

He grinned down at me. "Wonderful, but lonely without you, my love." And he kissed my forehead.

I'd always felt slightly uncomfortable with Matthias. He was rough and unconsiderate in many ways, and also very pushy and demanding. He would get angry with me often, and once or twice he had hit me. But I'd always forgiven him, verbally if not whole-heartedly. The only reason I had kept up this relationship was because I was slightly afraid of him. Mother approved of our relationship totally, saying that maybe he could knock some sense into me.

Its a shame she didn't know just how true that statement was.

I let Matthias play with my ebony hair as I listened to Georgiana and Veronique talk about the feast that was sure to be grand that evening, like always. Blake remained silent in the corner of the compartment, sometimes glancing at us but mostly looking out the foggy window.

"Hogwarts is so dreary," Matthias commented to me tiredly, watching me with cool blue eyes.

"I know," I replied, playing with his left hand. "Its terribly boring and full of stupid mudbloods and traitors. Why my parents even allow me to go to this school is incomprehensible."

He nodded in approval. "Soon, we'll be rid of this place, Rose."

I looked at him with empty hazel eyes, but he didn't seem to notice my dispassionate expression.

"Just you and me."

My throat choked up, though I still hid any emotion. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life married to an abusive man like Matthias. But, somewhere deep inside, I knew it was most likely going to happen. I wasn't stupid enough to believe in the illusions of happiness; I was doomed to this fate and I knew it, like I said before. I would never get to marry for love or live a joyous life like James Potter would.

Why couldn't he see how great he had it? Why did he continue to try and chase away any sanity I might have left?

At that moment, my hatred for James burned hotter than ever before. Why could he have joy, when I could not? How was that fair?

Matthias continued to touch my hair, brushing through it softly and gently. I shut my eyes for a minute; it felt sort of good.

When our compartment door slammed open with a loud crack, I shot up, shocked for a moment. A grin appeared on the intruder's face as he said hastily," There's a meeting in the Prefect's carriage."

I scowled. "Well, there was no reason for you to barge in here, certainly?"

His grin faltered. "Oh, just get to the carriage."

I stood up slowly, as did Blake. I smoothed out my skirt obsessively until all of the little creases and folds had been fixed.

I had been made Prefect last year, much to Mariette's unhappiness. A girl named Freya Morkinton had shoved her up way to the Prefect position after my sister had worked so hard to earn it. When she learned I'd been assigned as one of the fifth year Prefects, she'd thrown a fit.

"See you later," I told Matthias before leaving the compartment with Blake and relieving a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

Blake looked down at me with slanted, brown eyes. "If you are so uncomfortable with Matthias, why do you continue to date him?"

Blake had always been my favorite out of my group of mates. He was silent most of the time, and when we completed our Prefect duties, the quiet was never awkward. He didn't have much to say about anything, keeping his opinions to himself, and that was admirable. Unfortunately, that meant he was more observant and seemed to always notice my discomfort, and while I was almost touched that he appeared to genuinely care, I wondered why he couldn't just keep that to himself, too.

I sighed. "In all honesty, that is for me to know and you to never find out. Come on, then. Let's go."

He gave me a look before I turned and walked down the long, carpeted hall, Blake following me closely. We passed several other students, some who were trying to find the loo and others who were searching for that ancient trolly lady, the one who looked prehistoric. Really, when was she going to retire?

We reached the Prefect carriage and entered the room. Instantly, the chatter died down and they turned to watch us maneuver around others and take our seats next to other Slytherins. Even then, their judgemental eyes didn't leave us until I gave them a small sneer. That got them to look away.

I notice a waving hand in the corner of my eyes and turned to see Potter, grinning at me mockingly while he foolishly continued to wave. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head slightly in frustration. _The audacity._

His brown hair was messy and untidy, per usual, and his light eyes were sparkling with mischief. Beside him sat his cousin and partner, Fred Weasley II, who's olive-toned skin drastically compared to Potter's pale skin. His own eyes were dark and looked at me without amusement, unlike Potter. Fred had always been to more serious one.

The other Gyrffindor Prefects were familiar-looking: the fifth years were Ali Longbottom and Johnathon Thomas, sixth years were Weasel and Potter, and then the seventh years were Dominique Weasley and Justin Goforth. Dominique had been made Head Girl that year, so she was probably assigned to give the boring, introductory Prefect speech.

I didn't recognize all of the Ravenclaws, just Dominique's younger brother Louis and a girl named Rachelle Davies. Louis was, and I admit this without regret, extremely attractive. He had 1/8 Veela blood, and it showed. He had silky blonde hair like his mother and piercing, intelligent eyes like his father. Unfortunately, he was a Ravenclaw and a blood-traitor, and even the thought of persuing him would give my parents a heart attack.

Rachelle Davies, on the other hand, had a quite ugly array of teeth and bushy eyebrows - not really eye candy.

And then there were some Hufflepuff Prefects that I didn't really care about. Everyone knows that you get sorted into Hufflepuff if you don't belong in any of the other Houses; it was the rejection House.

Some more students filed into the room before all of the Prefects were present. Dominique and the new Head Boy, Clark Arlington, stood in front of the group with welcoming smiles on their faces. Well, just Dominique - Clark, a Ravenclaw, looked generally bored.

"Welcome, Hogwarts Prefects!" she began. "Now, most of you know the rules at school and how to enforce them, but I'm going to go over them one more time, for the sake of our newest prefects. Well, the first and foremost rule is..."

And she continued to go on about the rules, and then she gave out the passwords for all of the Common Rooms. I didn't really listen to her, but I was smart enough to appear to be, unlike James and Fred who whispered and laughed until Dominique threatened them. When she finished, she assigned several Prefects their first duty of the year: keeping the children on the Hogwarts Express in check. Of course, being an older sister, she chose Louis, who groaned and nearly begged for her to make someone else do it.

Corridor surveillance was the worst.

But, to my surprise, she decided to assign me, too. Usually, the Head Girl or Boy doesn't give these duties to Slytherins, as they are not the... most_ suitable_ for the job.

I raised an eyebrow, but nodded my head. I didn't fail to see Potter's smirk in my peripheral vision.

"You two will take the first shift, and then James and Ramona Finch Fletchley will take the second shift, with Justin Goforth and Christina Yardley taking the last shift."

My turn to smirk; the second shift was thirty minutes longer than the first.

I stood once again, and nodded at Dominique before leaving the carriage with her brother.

Now, I didn't know what Louis thought of me, though I'm sure he's intelligent enough to realize I'm not exactly the nice type. He'd probably heard tons of stories about me from James and while they were most likely _extremely _exaggerated, he probably took the hint.

"Louis Weasley, I believe we've met before, briefly?" I stuck out my hand in front of him.

He straightened up immediately, eyes now guarded. I was a Slytherin, after all; I couldn't blame him. I was pretty much used to the looks by now. He took my hand and gently shook it. "Yes. Your name is Rosalie Flint."

It wasn't a question.

I gave him a small, crooked smile of affirmation and dropped my hand. "Alright, do you want the first half of the train or the second?" I asked bluntly.

He pursed his lips. "Your choice," he replied politely.

"I'll just take the second half. The Slytherins sit down there, and they're more likely to listen to me. And I'm sure the same goes with the Ravenclaws; they're not very fond of me."

He nodded. "Fair enough. See you in two hours."

I wrinkled my nose and turned on my heel. I withdrew my wand from my pocket gently and grasped it in my hand, walking back towards my compartment to tell the others that I was on Prefect duty for the time being.

I pulled the door open once more and the first thing I noticed was that Blake wasn't back yet. My eyes flickered down to Matthias. "I've been assigned to corridor surveillance, just thought I'd let you know."

He groaned. "But Slytherins are never assigned to that hogwash."

"I know, Matthias. I'll be back in two hours, alright?"

He nodded, and I looked over at Georgiana and Veronique. "See you guys later."

They nodded, too. Georgiana asked almost desperately, "Where's Blake?"

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," I told her icily, then left the compartment. "_Hey, no running in the halls, Goyle!_"


	3. Arrival

**A/N: Alright, first-off, I'm sorry these chapters have been sort of filler-ish. I just want everyone to get a good grasp on the characters and their personalities. Second, I won't be posting as frequently if I don't get any reviews, so REVIEW! FEED MEEEE! Siriusly (see what I did there?), I work off of reviews and the less reviews I get, the crappier the chapters become. **

**Thats just how it works. **

**So, if you like this story, tell me why and if you hate it, also tell me why. It helps loads, trust me. Honestly, I know how many people actually click on this story because of the traffic reports. **

**Anywho, sorry for the long A/N. TO THE STORY (again, this chapter may seem like a filler. :3)**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter Two - Arrival<span>**

My patrol was over all uneventful, just little bit of yelling and, of course, retracting points from Gryffindor. Five, to be exact; a good way to start off the year.

I was striding down the hall when I, so unfortunately, had the displeasure of meeting Potter once more. I scowled at him as he stopped in front of me, looking down on me with those brown eyes.

Curse my shortness!

"Get out of my way, you daft toerag," I hissed, glaring at him venomously.

He smirked. "We haven't spoken all summer and those are the first words you say to me? Ouch, I'm_ hurt_."

"I was beginning to get used to the quiet," I snapped, a head ache already pounding in my head. I was prone to getting migraines, but they were always at their worst when I was around James Potter. I gripped my wand, ready to jinx the shit out of him at a moment's notice.

"Well, then tough luck. I so... dislike being quiet," he offered, grinning stupidly.

"Oh, believe me when I say_ I know_," I told him. "Get. Out. Of. My. Way!"

He rested his arm against the corridor wall, taking up the entire hall. "I heard you were made Quidditch captain this year, Rosie. But just so you know," he leaned down towards me to whisper, "we're gonna kick your asses."

With an inelegant snort, I retorted, "Is that so? Potter, you just full of hot air and arrogance. I'm not afraid to work_ hard_ for my team, and I can't wait to see your faces when we beat the snot out of you in the first Slytherin/Gryffindor match of the season."

"You keep believing that, darling."

"Move before I snap your leg!"

"Aw, come on! Aren't you having fun? I just love these heart-to-hearts we have!"

"Is there a problem over here?"

Matthias glided over to us, icy eyes watching Potter with a raging hatred. James turned to look at him, their eyes meeting at the same level but James' messy hair putting an inch or two on him. I crossed my arms, releasing my wand, the snide look on my face wiped clean.

I vaguely wondered which was worse: fighting with Potter or holding hands with Matthias.

"Well, well, Flint. Here comes your boyfriend to the rescue," James chimed.

Matthias clenched his jaw. "Stay away from her. _She's mine_," he hissed.

My chest cringed.

"Oh believe me, you've made it clear," James told him, backing away from Matthias, obviously not wanting any sort of physical fight.

"Then why the hell are you all up in her face? If I catch you one more time..." He didn't finish his threat.

Potter just grinned. "Alright, on that cheerful note, I'll be off then. See you later, Flint." He winked and sauntered off.

Matthias growled some profanities under his breath before wrapping his arm around me very tightly and possessively. "Stay away from him, alright Rosalie?"

I nodded submissively. "Believe me, it won't be a problem," I replied quietly.

Then he kissed me roughly, pushing me against the wall almost wildly. I saw James look over his shoulder just once before turning the corner. The smirk was no longer on his face and there was something in his eyes that was out of place.

Pity.

I shut my eyes. James Potter pitied me.

_How could life get any worse?_

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><p>I locked myself in the bathroom, sliding down to the floor and rubbing my shoulder gently. On the nape of my neck, there was a bright red bite mark.<p>

It wasn't uncommon for Matthias to bite me, hard enough to leave an imprint but not enough pressure to draw blood. It was simply barbaric and I hated it; it was always painful, but I still allowed him to do it. It was like I was his property.

I rested my head against the back of the door, closing my eyes and just enjoying the quiet for a while. We were almost to Hogwarts, and that was an enormous relief. I just wanted to take a hot shower and go to sleep, to stop the pounding head ache and just dream.

After a minute or two, I stood and looked at my reflection in the mirror. A girl stared back at me, an expression of exhaustion on her pallid face. Her skin was so pale it was nearly white, but her hair was black, a drastic contrast. Her eyes were hazel, lit by nothing but the dull light of the bathroom.

She looked empty.

I sighed, fixing my hair and my make-up before reopening the door and stepping into the corridor. My new, black cloaks made a swishing noise as I walked. Then, the train made a sudden jolt and my mood got considerably lighter.

We were at Hogwarts.

Everyone filed off of the train without bothering to get their trunks, knowing someone else would collect them and take them to the dormitories. The frst years seperated from the rest of the students, boarding the small boats instead of following us to the carriages. Matthias took my hand and led me to an empty cart, pulling me up and letting Blake and Veronique get on with us. I rested my head on his shoulder gently, and he didn't seem to mind.

Blake gave me a look, which I proceeded to ignore.

The ride was quiet, not in an awkward sense. Veronique continued to make nasty comments about someone or something related to Hogwarts, but nobody appeared to be paying attention to her rambling and disdain.

I walked side by side with Matthias, steps in perfect sync, into the huge, grey-stoned castle with a large group of cloaked students. We all took our seats at our specific tables, and I sat down next to Matthias like always. On my other side, Blake sat down and Georgiana and Veronique sat across from us. Down the long table, I recognized certain people like Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, and Freya Morkinton, her Prefect badge purposefully not hidden from Mariette, who sat with her close friend Regina King.

At the Gryffindor table, James was laughing and joking around with Fred and another Weasley, Molly. As Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress, came in with a group of first years stumbling behind her, she gave them a stern look and they stopped being so rambunctious for a moment.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," McGonagall began, stepping up onto the risen platform. "We will begin the night with the annual sorting ceremony. When I call your name, you will come forth and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head. Then you will be sorted into your Houses."

The professor quickly went through the list of names, each child sorted into their rightful House. Some first years took longer than others: wizards descending from entire families of Slytherins were almost obvious, while muggle-borns took quite some more consideration.

After the ceremony, McGonagall announced the rules of Hogwarts, and the feast finally began.

Many first years gazed at the food with wonder, trying to figure out how it just appeared. A little Slytherin girl with ebony hair crooked her eyebrows at the platter in front of her, and I couldn't help but soften my expression: she reminded me of myself, except she looked so innocent.

I was never innocent.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" Veronique asked me, chewing some potatoes in her mouth.

I blinked, then realized that I had been staring into space. "Yes. 'Course," I mumbled, reaching out and grabbing a roll, placing it onto my plate. I wasn't terribly hungry, but I still ate some food. It was so much better than Mother's cooking.

I shuddered at the thought. Really, starving children in Africa wouldn't even touch her food.

All I wanted was just to go to my dorm. I wanted to be alone, and I hoped that I wasn't assigned patrol on my first night, though usually it was a seventh year.

Later that evening, I helped lead the first years to the dungeons. I explained how the wall opened up when the password was spoken, which changed every fortnight. The children 'oohed and aahed' before the seventh year prefects showed them to their dormitories.

I inhaled the scent of the Slytherin Common room; it smelled like a burning fire and old books, a smell I'd memorized since my first year. My memory had not done my justice, as I felt so rejuvinated by the actual scent.

"I'm going to my dormitory, okay? I'm exhuasted," I told Matthias, who was still towering over me by my side.

He pouted almost childishly. "You don't want to stay up for a little while?"

"I'm sorry," I told him. "Perhaps tomorrow night, okay?"

"Okay, babe." He kissed me, wrapping me into a rough embrace, before letting me go to bed. I found my trunk neatly in my dormitory, just as I'd expected. I opened it, revealing all of my Slytherin apparel, uniforms and toiletries, along with necessary school supplies. I removed my shampoo and body wash with my tooth brush and floss, and retreated to the bathroom where I enjoyed a steaming hot shower that relaxed my aching muscles. There were several other girls in the shower area, also, but it was mainly quiet as most girls were too tired or busy to shower.

After vigorously brushing and flossing my teeth, already dressed into my warm pajamas, I stumbled back to the dorm I shared with Veronique and Georgiana, climbing into my bed and laying against the pillow quietly and peacefully.

I had the blissful opportunity to just lay there and think. I loved to think, which sounds sort of strange, but thinking when I was alone and with no other distractions was quite a blessing. I could think about anything, I was free, and that night all I could think about was how much I appreciated Hogwarts. It was a home to me, unlike my own house which felt strange and uncomfortable. But I knew better than to take it for granted. It was a place to escape to, away from my parents.

I had everything here: a place to play Quidditch, a large library full of books, knowledge just waiting to be learned.

Strangely, it even felt nice to have Potter to bicker with, something I don't think I could ever admit. I guess he was an outlet for me, someone to release all of my bottled up anger at. I wondered with mild guilt if he actually deserved the insults and threats I hurled at him.

Then I decided that yes, he did. Stupid git.

I fell asleep that night feeling warm, grateful and content.


	4. First Day

**A/N: Much thanks to everyone who has reviewed! **

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><p><strong>Chapter Three - First Day<strong>

I woke up to my internal alarm clock.

Usually, I wake up around 7 o'clock am. It was a habit that had grown on me, and now I was basically programmed to wake up early. I didn't mind, either; the morning was my favorite time of day. I enjoyed watching the sun rise, the sky changing color and the shadows on the clouds disappearing. It was enlightening and beautiful, a sight that people truly should pay more attention to.

And there was so much you could accomplish in the morning.

I stretched my legs, the satisfactory popping of my knees bringing relief to my stiff limbs. I threw my blankets off of me and instantly the chilly draft brought goosebumps to my skin. I shivered slightly as I stepped down and I bent over my trunk, silently unlocking it and retrieving my first uniform of the year with my Captain badge. I stripped out of my pajamas in the dark and hurriedly put on my clothes, saving my tie and badge for the bathroom.

The bathroom was nearly empty, with the exception of a second year girl using the loo and a fifth year brushing her hair, already dressed. Breakfast was on the table by 7:30, but nobody really went down to the Great Hall until at least 7:45. Having ten or twenty minutes on all of the other girls was wonderful.

I placed my pouch of toiletries on the sink and slipped my brush out of the clear, plastic bag. I ran it through my hair, wincing every time I hit a snarl. Then I neatly tucked in my collared shirt and fixed my black and green tie.

Proudly pinning my Quidditch Captain badge on my chest, I let it boldly stand out. It was a beautiful Slytherin shade of green, and a silver C gleamed in the center of the patch.

Picking out some earrings from a small jewelry box, I put on some silver earring - the ones that my nana had given to me for my tenth birthday. I examined myself in the mirror, eventually approving my outfit and then proceeding to apply some make-up. When I finished, I packed up my bag and left the Slytherin girls' bathroom, returning my things to my trunk and shoving it under my bed.

I grabbed a spiral-bound notebook and pen from the front pocket of my trunk, putting in under my arm and then walking out of the dorm without another sound.

Walking quietly down the corridor towards the breakfast hall, I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Norris' ginger tail and then Argus Filch, limping and scowling angrily at me, like usual. He wasn't kind to anyone with any type of magical blood, holding a grudge against wizards forever just because he had the unfortunate chance of being born a Squib.

I stuck up my nose, strolling right by him without a second look and turning into the Great Hall. The breakfast hall wasn't crowded. A few Ravenclaws were seated at their table, discussing their classes for the day excitedly.

The Slytherin table was barely touched, as most of them travel together in packs. They usually showed up around 8 o'clock, when everyone was finally up and ready. I sat down by myself and reached for some corn flakes, pouring some milk onto the dry cereal. I also prepared myself a cup of coffee, drinking it black and bitter, like usual.

It took me a while to finish my breakfast. While I was eating, I studied my notebook. It was full of Quidditch strategies and ideas for our team this year, and I wasn't going to stop working with it until we had the best team Hogwarts had ever seen. We were going to eradicate the other teams, but particularly the Gryffindor team. With Albus as our Seeker, we already had the best Seeker at Hogwarts_ period._

Ever since my second year, when I joined to Slytherin team, it had become my life goal to lead the Slytherin team to victory.

My tongue ran along the inside of my lower lip as I focused on the paper in front of me. Slowly, the tables started to fill up around me, the talking getting louder and louder until I finally shut my notebook and sighed. I noticed Veronique and Georgiana for the first time; they were sitting next to me, giggling while they watched Merrick Roland from a distance. He was an incredibly handsome and talented beater, and I was crossing my fingers, desperately hoping he would try out for the team again.

"Hey Flint."

I turned around, surprised to find Potter right behind me. His brown hair was tousled and his eyes were glinting as if he knew something I didn't. _That git!_

"Potter!" I nearly squealed. "Were you looking over my shoulder?"

"Maybe," he said, raising an eyebrow as if he was challenging me. "Why don't you just give up already? You know we're going to crush you this year."

I laughed without amusement, clutching my precious notebook to my chest. "Ha, well I hardly doubt that! I have something you don't."

"Oh? And whats that?"

I raised from my seat. "Wits! I'm not brain-dead like _some_ people."

He glowered at me, catching the implied sub-message. "Well, at least I know how to play fair. Slytherins always cheat!"

Okay, that was a low blow.

"Are you calling me a cheater, Potter?" I growled, my voice lowering and getting the attention of the surrounding students. Some of them rolled their eyes at our bickering, but others continued to watch with smirks on their faces, wondering whether or not this was going to go physical.

"Yeah, I am!"

"At least I'm not an arrogant prick! You always want the spotlight to be on you!" Then I shoved him. _Hard._

His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed. He was about to retort when McGonagall butted in. "Oi! The two of you! Do you both want detention on the first day of school?"

I clenched my jaw and James didn't break his gaze from me. "No, Professor," he answered, his voice loosing its angry edge. What a softy.

"Then knock it off!" she ordered sternly.

I turned on my heel without another glance, stalking out of the Great Hall with an air of disdain. _What a fucking wonderful way to start off the year!_ I hurried down the stone corridor towards the dungeons to retrieve my school books when I bumped into someone.

"Watch where you're going! You- oh. Its you!"The exclamation came out small and weak, and even I cringed at the pathetic tone.

Matthias looked down at me, disappointment gleaming in his hard eyes. "Rosalie! Watch where you're going."

I nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry."

Thankfully, he didn't do anything else. He only asked me, "Still fooling around with that rubbish?" He pointed at the notebook in my hand.

I didn't reply.

Blake was standing next to Matthias looking absurdly uninterested. But then he looked at me, and I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>My first class of the year was Herbology with Professor Longbottom. I wasn't exactly fond of him, therefore I despised the class. Then I had History of Magic with Professor Binns; the two classes were 1.5 hours long and had a 30 minute break in between. During lunch, I made sure I went through all of my Quidditch notes again. Following lunch there was Divination with Trelawney and finally Potions with Slughorn.<p>

Professor Slughorn always had an exam on the first day of classes to determine who he would invite to join the Slug Club. I had been in his little club since fourth year, but that exam gets old after the first time. I had a hard time sitting still during Potions.

By the end of the day, I was piled up with homework, totally wiped out, and feeling absolutely feral. The argument I'd had with Potter that morning seriously took a toll on me, winding me up and causing me to have a terrible mood for the rest of the day. Besides my wicked sarcasm and comments, I'd been bullying Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs terribly, more worse that usual.

I dutifully took my place next to Matthias at 5 o'clock at the Slytherin table. They were serving all types of good food and I crammed a ton of it onto my plate, practically famished.

"Hungry?" Georgiana nearly sneered, looking at my plate from across the table. She glanced at Veronique and Blake for some sort of back-up, which she didn't get.

"Georgiana, I'm in a really bad mood. _I will fuck you up_." I gave her my worst glare, relieving some of my bottled up anger.

She was suddenly quiet, looking down at her nearly empty plate. Half of me thought '_coward_' and the other half sneered '_good girl_'. Georgiana never actually started fights with me, because she always lost.

My inner bitch was coming out. Every time someone spoke, I wanted to scream '_shut up!_'. My head was pounding like a hammer against an anvil, and I felt vicious and uncontrollable.

Finally I dismissed myself. "I'll see you in the common room tonight, Matthias. I need to speak with the Headmistress." I left out why I was speaking with McGonagall; it was about Quidditch try-outs. I needed a solid date before the other captains. I liked having the upper hand.

He nodded. "Alright babe."

Babe. I hated it when he called me that.

And I hated James Potter. My anger was bubbling over the top as I grumbled my way to McGonagall's study. I hated how one argument with him could mess up my entire day. No one should have such control over my emotions! Yet here I was, fuming, feeling as if I wanted to strangle baby kittens.


	5. Let The Season Begin

**A/N: So, this chapter's about the Slytherin tryouts (as you'll find out in about ten seconds). I'm not sure how I did with that scene; I'm not great when it comes to writing out Quidditch, so tell me what you think! I'm all for honest criticism :)**

* * *

><p><strong>QUIDDITCH TRY-OUTS<strong>

_are to be held next Saturday the 1st at 2 PM sharp!_

_Please arrive at the Quidditch pitch prepared with a broom and the fundamental equipment._

_If you do not have the mandatory gear, please speak with Headmistress McGonagall._

_First-years are not permitted to try-out._

_Try-outs will be held by the new Slytherin captain _Rosalie Flint, sixth year.

_A spot on last season's team **DOES NOT** guarantee acceptance this coming season._

_Please sign the list before Thursday, October 30._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four - Let The Season Begin<strong>

I walked onto the Quidditch pitch in my green and silver robes, the early November chill nipping at my nose. In the center of the green field stood a little over 20 Slytherins, similarly dressed like me. They were fooling around with each other, pushing and shoving and laughing contently. I recognized most of them, either from previous seasons or just from passing them in the hall.

There was Merrick Roland, in all of his bulky glory; Albus Potter with Scorpius Malfoy by his side; Gavin Goyle, a chubby third year, and many other familiar faces. There were some I could just tell were going to make the team, like Albus (huge fan of him, I am) and Merrick.

"Alright, chumps," I said, holding my broom as I walked to the front of the group and faced towards them with a serious expression. "My name is Rosalie Flint, and I am your new captain this year."

Some second year, who stood on the edge of the group, nodded furiously.

"To start off, I want you to separate into groups: chasers over here, beaters over here, keepers there and seekers beside me."

Albus was instantly by my side, giving me a grin. While I was two years older them him, he was already taller than me. Next to him was a fifth year named Violetta Flavic, a beady-eyed girl with platinum blonde hair, and then Robert Gregson. Why anyone would even bother trying out for seeker when Albus was around, though, baffled me.

"Good. Now, let's caught to the chase; I'm going to run you through some drills and then one or two scrimmages, just to access your boundaries and restraints. I will mostly decide on those who possess the most talent, but your sportsmanship will matter. Also, if you are caught cheating, I will immediately send you on your way. Slytherins are often stereotyped as cheaters," I said, remembering my argument with Potter earlier in the school year. " I won't tolerate it this year."

After stressing that, I had them mount their brooms and complete some flying drills. I held a clipboard in my hand as I watched them, making notes about the clumsy fliers, and also the agile ones. I made them do everything drill that I could think of.

The drills lasted for a span of twenty minutes. Following the flying exercises, I organized three teams for the scrimmages.

"You, you, and you!" I ordered. "Over there with Potter. Corrin Vandevort, you're with Roland. Stop making goo goo eyes at him!"

Corrin's expression turned sour as she made a face at me.

"Alright. Team One and Two will play each other in a short, thirty minute scrimmage, giving me time to observe you in action. The team with the most points at the end of the thirty minutes gets to play against Team Three. I will be releasing the Snitch, but only to observe the Seekers. I don't expect any of the Seekers to actually catch the Snitch, though that would be remarkable. I assume you all know your positions?"

Nods and murmurs.

"Get 'er done!" I handed a bat to each of the Beaters, muttering, "Make sure you don't take off anyone's head, gotcha?"

I landed in the center circle where the shaking crate held the Buldgers, the Quaffle, and the Golden Snitch. All of the Slytherins took their positions before I blew the whistle around my neck. I released the Snitch and the Buldgers, then took the Quaffle into my hands and threw it up into the playing area.

Watching intently, I returned to my notes. Each person had several adjectives and paragraphs next to their names. I started knocking off some people who were truly awful, wondering why they even bothered showing up.

Also, I kept a small eye on the Seekers above head: Violetta and Robert. They were okay, but truly and honestly I had my mind set on Albus Potter. He was sitting on a bench with the rest of Team Three, his emerald eyes already on the Snitch, even from that distance.

A boy named Mort Yorkland sent a Buldger at Scorpius Malfoy, who had the Quaffle in hand and was zooming towards Team One's goal posts. But Roland was too quick, deflecting the Buldger with a deafening crack, sending it back at Yorkland. Malfoy threw the Quaffle through the lowest goal, just out of the reach of Kennedy Fritz, earning his team 10 points.

In the end, Team Two won the match 40 - 20. Malfoy, Roland, Vandevort, and several others proceeded to compete against Team Three. I started the game with another blow of the whistle, throwing the Quaffle once more into the air from the center of the pitch.

I looked up, watching the players closely. I found Albus Potter high up, looking keenly for the Golden Snitch. Violetta Flavic copied him, her eyes also searching for it.

Further below, the match ensued. Roland and the other Beaters furiously hit the Buldgers with all of their strength; Malfoy, Vandevort, and the Chasers continued to score points; and the Keepers watched from their goal posts enthusiastically. I found myself thoroughly enjoying the match, my eyes going back and forth between the players.

Then, Albus flew past me with extreme speed, Flavic hot on his tail. I gazed with phenomenal excitement and shock as Albus chased the Snitch, eyes behind his goggles not leaving the golden ball's quick frame. I was literally gawking as the fair-skinned boy leaned forward, closer and closer, until his gloved hand wrapped around the Snitch. He tumbled off of his broom, falling five feet onto the lush grass.

I pumped my fist into the air. "150 points for Team Three! Albus has caught the Snitch! Alright, land your brooms;_ try-outs are over_!" I ran over to Albus, who was still lying on the groud, a stupid grin on his face. I even smiled back at him, thinking of how_ possible_ it was for Slytherin to beat Gryffindor's arse this season.

"Absolutely brill, Albus!" I complimented, lending a hand to him. He gratefully took it and I helped him up.

* * *

><p>I labored over my clipboard of notes, tiredly examining every word. It had been six days since try-outs, and I had barely gotten a wink of sleep. It was taking an extreme toll on me, I noticed, as I grudgingly took a sip of black coffee.<p>

Georgiana watched me with small amusement, but mostly empty concern. "Rosalie, darling. You look like a zombie. Perhaps you should stop slaving over your Quid-"

"No!" I snapped, interrupting her. "No, not until I have everything perfectly sorted out." I turned around to see Potter chortling about something with Weasel. "How does he do it?"

"How does who do what?" Veronique asked, confused.

"Bloody Potter! Look at him, laughing about, having a jolly time! I've been perched over this clipboard for _days_ and he's not even stressed. At all!"

"I think you're taking this too seriously," Georgiana told me.

"Of course I'm not. You can never take Quidditch too seriously. But how are Slytherin and Gryffindor always neck and neck when I'm working endlessly and he's fooling around on his fat arse?" I questioned, turning back to Georgiana and Veronique.

They just sighed simultaneously.

I snatched up my clipboard, standing up from the breakfast table. "Its been made obvious that you two don't care. If you don't mind, I'm going to class early." I picked up my bag, which was propped up against the table, and walked out of the Great Hall, my body exhausted but my mind buzzing.

So, with my unceasing work, I'd narrowed it down to 14 people. The more I studied, the happier I grew. The team I was forming would be spectacular. Of course, the exhaustion of it all was killing me slowly. With my restlessness, mood swings, and everything gnawing on my nerves, people were starting to aggravate me, and I them.

But is was worth it.

Now, the only thing that could stand between me and my cup was that damned Potter.

Who, when I thought about it, I hadn't interacted with much in the past two weeks. There was that small incident in Transfiguration, but like I said, it was small; the usual "you're a Gryffindor" and "But you're a Slytherin" argument. I hadn't talked with him since.

But it wasn't like I minded.


	6. What A Bloody Mess

**Chapter Five - What A Bloody Mess**

"What a bloody mess! You two are the dirtiest, the most disorganized people I've ever had the unfortune of sharing a room with!" I threw my hands into the air with exasparation.

"If it bothers you, don't look at it," Georgiana sniffed, her nose in one of those gossip magazines that destroy your brain cells.

"Get off of your arses and clean your areas!" I fumed, gesturing towards Veronique's messy bed and Georgiana's ridiculously dusty shelf. "This is absurd! Don't either of you care?"

Veronique shrugged; an evident no. Georgiana didn't bother answering. Giving them each a glare that would frighten the Dark Lord, I snatched up my pocket book. "If this dormitory is not clean by the time I get back from the Slug Club's social... don't make me finish that threat."

They both got up and started cleaning as soon as I closed my mouth. Grinning, I didn't bother saying goodbye before exiting our dorm. "Oh, it feels good to be the one in charge."

"Oi, what are you so happy about?" Albus Potter asked me from the common room couch. Scorpius sat beside him, a leather-bound book in his pallid hand..

I smirked. "Its not happiness, little Potter. Its smugness."

"Ah, I see," Albus responded, smiling crookedly. "Are you off to Slughorn's club thingy?"

"How'd you know?"

"James told me about it," he explained. "He's been invited to join the Slug Club, too."

I clutched my purse a little tighter. "Well, thats just dandy, isn't it?"

Albus asked, "Why are you two always fighting?"

His green eyes looked at me with curiosity and innocence, and I sighed. "Because we're always at a disagreement, I suppose."

"So compromise. Everyone's a little sick of the enmity between the two of you," he said, and Scorpius gave a nod.

"Who gives a shit about_ everyone_?" I asked, rolling my eyes, and he smiled again.

"So," he began, changing the subject. "When do practices start?"

This perked Scorpius' full attention.

"We have an introductory practice next Friday night, then full practices start the Monday after. We'll practice at least 3 times a week," I told him.

"Alright."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to ask if you made the team or not? Vandevort's been up my arse all week about it."

A small gleam of Potter arrogance gleamed in his eyes. "Oh, please. I already know I'm on the team."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Just like your brother," I said. "I'll see you two later. Look for the team roster; I'll be hanging it up when the weekend's over. Bye, Albus. Scorpius."

They both nodded and I dismissed myself. My eyes scanned the room until I found Matthias and Blake standing near the common room exit. I hurried over to them, heels clicking on the cold stone floor, and took my place next to my boyfriend.

His eyes scanned me, dragging themselves from my feet and halting on my chest. His steady, greedy gaze made me uncomfortable and I started playing with my thumbs.

"Hey, Rose," he finally drawled, opening up his arm for me.

I drew closer to him, allowing him to put his arm around my shoulder. "Hello. How was your afternoon?"

"Boring without you, babe," he said softly, whispering in my ear.

Blake watched us with bored, slanted eyes. He was dressed in a simple blazer and nice pants, and his expression was solemn and passive, per usual. Matthias was dressed similarly, but his outfit was a darker shade. His brown hair was neat and tidy, and he smelled like aftershave, a familiar but cold scent I'd gotten used to.

"Ready?" I asked, placing my pocket book over my shoulder.

He nodded, and we left the Slytherin common room. My fingers traced the cold walls gently as Matthias talked to me about his day, gripping my shoulders tightly. My purple dress rubbed against my thighs as we walked towards Slughorn's office.

Horace Slughorn irked me, and I wasn't afraid to admit it freely. I was, no doubt, one of his finest students, and one of his favorites, too. I earned his favor by hard work and determination. But then there were people like James Potter, who was invited to Slughorn's parties merely because of his fame. Slughorn desired to establish connections with the wealthy and famous for his own personal benefit. While my parents had quite a bit of money, we weren't bloody rich like the Malfoys or the Potters.

It bothered me that people of a higher social status could get whatever they wanted while I had to work for it.

There were a lot of familiar faces in the Slug Club: Matthias, Blake, Potter, Roland, and Dominique Weasley. I knew most of the members personally, if not formally. Most of the students in the club were Slytherins, therefore easily identifiable.

Suddenly, I found myself in front of Slughorn's study. Matthias dropped his arm from my shoulders and I fixed my hair, then my dress, and finally a brief breath check. As Blake pushed the door open for us, Matthias took my hand, grasping it tightly.

Eyes turned to watch us enter, and I realized we were a few minutes late. Drinks had already been poured and bread had already been buttered. Slughorn said a brief "hello" to each of us before turning back to his conversation with Dominique.

The first person I noticed was Potter. His brown hair was perfectly messy, and he was wearing a cheerful expression. He watched me as I sat across from him at Slughorn's table, Matthias taking a seat beside me. Uncomfortable under his gaze, I made a face at him.

He instantly made a face back at me, and Rose Weasley promptly hit his arm. Wincing, he pouted childishly at her.

With flaming ringlets of red hair framing her oval-shaped face and bright blue eyes, I hadn't hesitated when I had decided that Rose Weasley was beautiful, all those years ago. She was also a talented, intelligent Ravenclaw. I didn't despise her like Potter and her other cousin, Weasel, but I wasn't particularly fond of her. She was a bit of a know-it-all and an over achiever, and that got annoying at times.

Beside me, Matthias helped himself to a roll. I stared at my plate almost blankly, not exactly hungry.

From across the table, Potter waved at me.

I rolled my eyes, wanting so badly to flip him off. His trademark, cocky smirk played on his lips, obviously enjoying my budding frustration. I scowled, turning to look at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

* * *

><p><strong>James<strong>

James Potter was sitting across the table from Rosalie, noticing how they were sitting together, in the same room, almost _civilly._

He couldn't help but notice how pretty she was that night: her black hair was flowing down her back, her hazel eyes were glinting under the dim light of the chandelier, and her purple dress complimented all of her features. Rosalie looked exceptionally bored, playing with her food and every once and a while glancing at her boyfriend, just to see if he was watching her.

Matthias Avery was a big, frightening bloke with cold features and a bitter personality. What Rosalie saw in him, well, James wasn't sure.

And by the looks of it, she wasn't sure either.

She noticed him staring at her, and she scrunched up her nose in distaste. James retaliated with a grin, and she turned away once again, annoyance plain on her face.

When the large clock in Slughorn's study chimed nine times, it was time for all of the students to leave. Slughorn bade them all goodbye, telling them how he was glad they'd come.

"Phew, I'm glad to get out of there," my cousin Rose said, walking up to my side.

"If you hate Slughorn so much, why did you accept his invitation?" James asked her.

"To get in his good graces, of course! If he doesn't like me, he won't give me good grades and you know its true," she said, pulling her Weasley red hair into a messy bun and yanking off her heels. She decided to carry them in her hands, instead.

"I suppose so."

Rose eventually parted ways with James, retreating to the Ravenclaw dormitory for the night. He continued walking until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Long night, boy? she asked.

James nodded. "I'm exhausted._ Fary minigins_."

Her portrait swung open at the sound of the password and James stumbled into the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey mate. How was the party?" Fred asked from the couch, his arm slung around some girl James'd never met before. She had blond hair, small blue eyes, and a Hufflepuff tie was loosely hanging around the nape of her neck.

"It wasn't an actual party. It was more like an old ladies tea party, except with Slughorn and Rosalie."

Fred laughed.

"Well, I'll just leave you to... whatever you're doing, Freddie. I'm going to-"

"James! There you are!" Justin Goforth ran up to James, panting and trying to catch his breath. "I have a DADA essay that needs to be finished by tomorrow, and I haven't even gotten halfway through. Can you cover for me and do my patrol tonight?"

James sighed. "What's in it for me, Goforth?"

"Ill give you 15 Sickles," he told him.

"Alright, Ill do it," James said.

Justin grinned. "You're a saint. You'll be patrolling until 12 tonight. See you later!" And with that, he rushed out of the common room, books tucked under his arm, presumably heading for the library.

He rolled his eyes and took out his wand. "Never mind bed. Looks like I'll be patrolling."

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for James to get bored. He finally decided that no mischief was happening at Hogwarts that night, so he might as well create some. He chose the old 'Change the Slytherin Common Room Colors Into Gold and Scarlet' trick, one he'd performed millions of times. He crept down the dungeon stairs, wandering in the corridors until he found the enterance to the Slytherin common room.<p>

It had never been hard for him to get the Slytherin password out of his brother, Albus. All he had to do was offer him information about Sadie Wood, the girl he fancied, and he caved.

James was about to mutter the password when he heard something out of sorts. It was almost like someone was struggling, muffled and unintelligible words echoing quietly in the halls. He took out his wand, holding it offensively in front of him, and he took several steps towards the sounds without creating too much noise. There was a whisper that he wasn't able to make out, but he could identify the person as a girl. A familiar girl.

James continued down the corridor, wand at the ready, until he found two figures struggling against a wall in the shadows. The dominating figure was forcing the smaller one into a suggestive position and finally, James figured out who they were.

"Matthias, get off of me!" Rosalie hissed, trying to shove him off of her.

He was too strong. "Shut up, you bitch! Someone will hear you."

"Get off!" she repeated desperately.

"I said shut it!"

James heard a slap and a cry of pain, and then he couldn't just stand there any longer. "What's going on out here?"

Immediately, the large student forced himself off of Rosalie, who was panting hysterically.

"_Avery_," James spat. "I suggest you get back to the Slytherin dormitories now before I get McGonagall this instant."

"Is that a threat?" Matthias said venomously, challenging James.

James shoved him. "Go. Now. You could be expelled for what I just witnessed."

The Slytherin boy was fuming. His eyes were like ice, but burning with fire at the same time. His nostrils were flaring and his messy, dishevelled look just gave him more of a dangerous look. "You better watch your back, Potter."

And he was gone.

James turned and saw Rosalie sitting against the wall quietly, still breathing heavily. Tentatively, he asked, "Flint? You alright?"

When he didn't get an answer, he slowly approached her, and finally sat next to her. They were silent for a second, and realization sunk into both of their stomachs.

Rosalie had almost been raped.

_Raped. _

* * *

><p><strong>Rosalie<strong>

I sat on the cold floor next to Potter, finding some mind boggling comfort in his presence. I knew he wasn't going to hurt me, like Matthias, and that was enough for me.

"Did he... does he do that a lot?" James asked lamely.

I gulped and ran my fingers through my hair. "Why would I tell you?"

He sighed. "Where did he hit you? Does it hurt?"

"The side of my face. Hurts like a bitch," I admitted. My cheek was throbbing, stinging from the blow Matthias had delivered only several minutes ago.

He looked down at me, and reached over to touch my cheek. His cool fingers felt good against the sore sensation. "I'm sorry I didn't get here quicker."

I hit his hand away and sighed, too. "Don't touch me Potter."

There was an edgy silence, and I began to feel uncomfortable. "Please don't tell anyone about this."

He looked at me, confused. "Why? Rosalie, he almost hurt you. He did hurt you."

"If you tell someone, you'll only make it worse," I warned him.

He pursed his lips, obviously weighing his options. Finally, with an exasperated expression, he told me, "Fine. I won't tell anybody. But can you just... just stay away from Matthias, alright? I don't like the bloke."

I laughed without humor. "Funny, thats what he said about you."

"But I didn't try to rape you, Rosalie."

I buried my face into my arms, feeling ashamed.

"It wasn't your fault," he told me, tenderly patting my shoulders as if he were trying to comfort me. I hit his hand away, again.

"Why are you being nice to me?" I snapped. "All I've ever been to you is a bitch. You don't have to sit with me, y'know. You don't have to talk to me or say anything to me or even look at me!" My voice was shaking, a violent mix of rage and hysteria.

"What if I said that I didn't mind?"

I paused, then replied. "Then I wouldn't believe you."

Another silence. I rested my head on my forearm and looked at the dungeon wall across the corridor, identical to the one I was propped up against. My bare feet were starting to freeze, as were my fingers. Finally, I stood, brushing off my dress (I still hadn't changed out of my formal attire).

"Don't think this changes anything between us, Potter," I said as he stood, too.

He crooked an eyebrow and frowned. "Alright then."

"Tomorrow, you're going to pretend this never happened and I'm going to go back to hating you."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed and frustrated. "Whatever, Flint. The least you could have said was thanks. For, you know, saving you." And he stalked off.

I stood in the center of the corridor,finally letting my guard down and letting the pain and the guilt finally sink in.

"_Thank you, James,_" I whispered, after he'd stormed up the dungeon stairs. _"I'm sorry I'm so terrible to you."_

**A/N: Ok, so I hope this doesn't seem too out of character to you. I just wanted everyone to see that James had a kinder side to him, but so did Rosalie. James was just more open about it. Also, I hope the story isn't moving too fast that its unrealistic. **

**Leave a review; tell me what you thought; tell me if you have any ideas! I'm always open for new ideas! Thanks!**


	7. Pesky Emotions

**A/N: Sorry this update took so long. I've been feeling rather uninspired lately. But here it is: chapter seven. **

**Also, I will NOT be updating this story unless this chapter gets at least _three_ reviews. Sorry if that sounds demanding but I have other things to tend to and if there aren't enough people interested in this story, I won't continue it. So please, if you're interested in this story, just leave a review!**

**Thank you! **

* * *

><p><em>Attention Slytherin House! I'd like to introduce to you our official Quidditch team this year:<em>

**Captain** - Rosalie Flint

**Seeker** - Albus Potter

**Keeper** - Cadmus Galloway

**Beaters** - Merrick Roland; Elliot Guff

**Chasers** - Scorpius Malfoy; Corrin Vandevort; Rosalie Flint

_ Practices begin this Friday night at 6 pm sharp! Your schedule will be handed out then. Do not be late!_

_Stand Ins will be contacted later into the season._

* * *

><p>My feet padded against the ground as I ran down the corridors silently. As much as I was ashamed of admitting it, tears were sliding down my cheeks and dripping from my chin as I scurried and came to a halt in front of a plain, large wall.<p>

Heaving, I waited until a door came into view and I sighed: The Room of Requirements.

Pushing the door open, I was relieved to find a bed inside the silent empty room. I jumped onto it and crawled under the plain blankets, lying my head on the plush pillow.

There was no way in hell I was going back to the Slytherin Common Room. Matthias was sure to be sitting on the green couch, fuming and raging. I was too scared to even think about what he would do to me.

At that moment, I felt weak. Incredibly weak and exhausted. The weight of the previous events of the night was finally sinking in.

I couldn't stop sobbing heavily. It wasn't like in the movies, where the girl laid on the bed elegantly and cried beautiful, heart-jerking tears. No, it was one of those crying sessions filled with heavy sniffing, soaking wet pillows, and tons of snot. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I couldn't put my brave face back on.

Obviously, tomorrow was going to be utter Hell. First, I was going to have to take the walk of shame back to the dungeons in the morning. Then, I'd have to face a storming and abusive boyfriend alongside two curious, sneering dorm mates.

But my mind refused to think. And all I could manage to do was lay there, sniffling, feeling the pains of being human weigh heavy on my chest.

* * *

><p>Potter was avoiding me, which was new considering he was always up my arse when he was around. Sometimes, I'd catch him staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking, and it was starting to creep me out. I had planned on confronting him, but like I said, he was ignoring me. When Potter didn't want to be found, he simply wasn't found. Though I was extremely thankful that he had, indeed, kept his mouth shut about the previous weekend's unfortunate events.<p>

The day went by agonizingly slow, every minute dragged out to its full extent. Pathetically, I continued to avoid Matthias like he was contaminated with the plague, which he wasn't taking well. Now, it was late at night. I wasn't sure of the exact time, but I could guess that it was probably around midnight.

I didn't know why I was sneaking out. Perhaps the thrill of it kept me on edge and refrained my thoughts from wandering to my full platter of problems. The adrenaline of hiding in the shadows and making crazy dashes to avoid Filch and his demon cat was exhilarating.

I found myself at the kitchens, wringing my hands as I took a seat on one of the counters. A house-elf soon Apparated into the room with a crack, looking at me with watery eyes the size of tennis balls.

"What can Polly do for the young miss?" it asked in a small, squeaky voice.

All of my life, I'd been ordering around house-elves without another thought. But as I watched the floppy eared elf in front of me, her innocent but loyal eyes looking up dutifully, I decided to actually be kind to her. "A waffle, please, Polly."

"Of course, miss."

"Thank you, Polly."

She stared at me for a moment before turning and preparing a waffle for me.

Random fact: I lovd waffles. Like, I'm-Not-Joking-I-Will-Crucio-You-For-A-Waffle addiction. So when Polly gave me a steaming hot waffle with syrup and extra whipped cream, I gave her a big fat kiss on her wrinkly head. And honestly, I didn't really kiss people. Not even Mother and Father. Polly flushed bright red and stood there for a full five minutes gaping.

Eating the delicious waffle, I sat on top of the kitchen counter with a confused expression on my face. I chewed thoughtfully, examining the past couple weeks I'd spent at Hogwarts.

I felt weird. Divergent. I felt divided and unpeaceful, like a war was going on inside of me. I thought about my family: Mother, cold-hearted; Father, nonchalant; Marcus, absent; Mariette, distant. I thought about my relationships here at Hogwarts: all fake and distrustful.

There was no love, or care, or any emotion. Except for lust and desire.

I briefly wondered how drastically different my life would have been if I'd befriended the Potters and the Weasleys. If I'f been sorted into Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff. Id I'd been born into a family that loved me and cherished me.

And at that moment, I felt despair. I was utterly alone.

_Alone._

I didn't have much time to think, though. Because something interrupted my thoughts with a hollow thud. Popping my head up, I looked as the kitchen door flew open without any warning. No one stood behind the door, and for a second I stopped breathing.

There was an unmistakable rustling sound, and I could tell that someone else was now in or near the room. Quickly, I jumped off of the counter and ran towards the exit, only to fall backwards painfully, landing on my bum.

"Damnit! Ouch, that hurt! What the hell are you made of? Bricks?"

"What the-? Potter?"

The air was disruppted and all of a sudden Potter appeared, grinning like a fool. "Hey Rosie."

I stood swiftly. "How the hell did you do that?" I asked harshly.

"What? This?" He wrapped a cloak around himself and suddenly all that was left of him was his head. "Cool, eh?"

I was flabbergasted, to say the least. Finally, I started breathing again and shoved Potter in the chest hard. "Stupid git!"

He laughed, despite my furious glare. "So Flint. Sneaking off to the kitchen in the wee hours of the night? Quite the rebel now, are we?"

I rolled my eyes. "I could say the same thing, Potter."

He leaned against the kitchen wall with an arrogant smirk on his face. "Please, Flint. I've done this loads of times. But you... I've never seen you sneaking about before- Is that a waffle?"

Snorting, I said, "You have the attention span of a toddler."

He shrugged. "What can I say? Polly! Hit me up with one of your infamous waffles darling!"

Polly winked at him and said, with a swing of her hips and a flick of her wrist, "You got it, Mr. Bro!"

Potter laughed. "I taught her that. She won't drop the whole 'Mr.' thing though. We'll work on it."

The small house-elf began dutifully cooking once more.

I returned to my waffle, taking a bite. It had chilled considerably in the cold castle's draft, but it still tasted amazing. "So... you've been avoiding me lately." It wasn't a question, but more of a demanding statement.

Potter looked at me with large, brown eyes. "Me? Avoid you? Nooooo."

"Don't deny it!" I told him.

He pursed his lips. "Well, isn't that what you wanted?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but paused for a second. That was what I wanted, wasn't it? Of course it was! I'd been practically begging Potter to leave me alone all of my life! So why was I suddenly hesitating?

"Yes. That is what I wanted."

He started laughing again. "You're lying. You like my company. Everyone loves being with me." And he took a seat next to me with a steaming hot waffle of his plate, prepared exactly like mine.

I gaped at him. "You're kidding, right? I detest you being in my presence."

"Please," he chortled. "You're in _my presence_."

"You're such an arrogant pig," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"If you hate me so much, why haven't you left already?" he challenged, looking down at me.

"I was here first!" I told him defensively. "If anyone's going to leave, its you."

He took a bite of his waffle. "Goo' luck wif dat!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I said, disgusted, but a grin tugging unexpectedly at my lips.

"You thound like my mu'," he said disdainfully.

I turned to look at him and my eyes widened. I suddenly started laughing, the chuckling errupting from me like an explosion. Not a cute giggle that most girls do, but I side-hurting, chest heaving, uncontrollable laugh. The fact that Potter had a moustache of whipped cream wasn't exactly that type of material, but I hadn't laughed in so long. It felt unfamiliar and foreign.

But it felt good.

"Wat?" Potter asked, chewing another huge bite of waffle. "Wat ith tho funny?"

Without thinking, I took my thumb and wiped the whipped cream from his upper lip. Then, realizing what I'd just done, I jumped off of the counter suddenly and awkwardly.

I was never awkward. And I was always careful. I always had my guard up, so why was being with Potter so different? I rubbed my forehead, some gross feeling settling in my stomach that made me uncomfortable.

He looked at me, his eyebrow raised. He wasn't eating anymore, just looking at me curiously.

"What are you staring at?" I finally snapped, the happiness now flushed out of my system.

"Merlin, talk about bipolar!" he said, watching me carefully. "Godric, Rosalie, what's with the mood swings?"

I ran my tongue over my teeth anxiously. "I don't know. Just... I've got to go." And without another word, I turned on my heel and left.

Using my mental scale, I compared two things the rest of the night: how I'd been feeling most of my life and what I felt just when I was with Potter.

What i had was supposed to be. What I was and how I acted and thought was expected of me. That was how I thought my life would turn out inevitably. It was my fate. I was destined not to be loved, but be obedient, diligent, and ambitious. I was brought in a way that made me cold.

But being with James Potter was strange. It was alien and unknown. He was different from what I was used to. I'd grown up hating him and all of the stereotypical Gryffindors. That's what I was supposed to do. Yet now, I was starting to wonder:

_What if I had grown up hating the wrong people?_

Because when I was with Potter, I didn't feel so alone after all.


	8. Heart Breaker or Rather the Nose Breaker

**A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed; it made me all happy and glowy inside :3 I'm not going to ask for a certain number of reviews again, but it does motivate me to write faster if you choose to review anyways! **

**Chapter Eight - The Heart Breaker... Or Rather the Nose Breaker**

Hot water poured over his stiff body as he stood in the shower, a vacant expression on his face. His eyes were glazed over, as if he were deep in thought. The steam rose from the shower in waves, filling the empty and dark locker room.

There was one thing - well, person - on his mind that just wouldn't bugger off. They lingered, and everything James did reminded him of that person.

Rosalie Flint.

There was no doubt in his mind that at one point in his life, he hated her. Not just her, but everything about her: her ideas, her hobbies, her beliefs... Everything she did got under his skin. Up until this summer, she had been his arch nemesis, his enemy, his rival.

But (and he could barely believe that there even was a 'but'), now he wasn't sure. It wasn't like BAM! All of a sudden everything was clear to him. No, he'd been thinking so hard, pondering the girl named Rosalie Flint.

He decided that she was just lost.

Lost and alone: two words that were under her name in the dictionary. All of her life, she'd been alone. Of course, he hadn't noticed until the beginning of this year, but she was often walking alone, eating alone, practicing alone... And when she wasn't alone, she was with those cows Georgiana and Veronique, or her git of a boyfriend.

He shuddered at the thought of the oaf. Tall, dark, and robust, Matthias Avery was one heck of a dude.

It had always been obvious to James that their relationship was unhealthy - Matthias and Rosalie's. But not until last week did he realize just how sick and perverted it was. And it finally dawned on him that maybe Rosalie wasn't just the enemy.

Maybe she was a victim.

It was weird, to think of her in that light. Rosalie was seriously head-strong, proud, and determined. She was a powerful girl. And to think of her as the weak, abused partner in a relationship was just strange. Though it was immensely clear to him now: she needed help.

Sometimes, he felt sick about actually helping her. And it wasn't like she wanted his help, which made every decision worse. But she was a misguided, misunderstood girl and he understood that now.

It wasn't even entirely her fault. She was just obeying her parents. She was just doing what she was supposed to do.

James turned off the hot water, letting icy water wash over him before turning off the shower completely and wrapping a towel around his waist.

He was going to help Rosalie, his enemy, whether she liked it or not. And he was pretty sure she was starting to warm up to him.

Sort of.

* * *

><p>"Matthias, I think we should break up."<p>

Six little words. Alone, they meant nothing, but together, they were cogent.

You have no idea how long it took me to build the courage just to utter those words. And as I stared into Matthias' irate features, regret was already starting to seep in.

"No," he said lucidly, refusing.

Biting the bottom of my lip anxiously, I tried to take a deep breath. "Yes, Matthias. I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore."

He stood from his seat in the common room, towering over me, chiseled jaw tight with frustration. Why did I feel like whimpering? Its not like he could do anything to me with everyone watching.

"I said no," he repeated, eyes flashing. "How dare you-"

"How dare I?" I whispered. "I am half of this relationship and I'm unhappy. I say we're over."

"I always make the final calls. No."

It was like arguing with a thick-headed five year old. I felt like exploding. I thought my very head was going to combust. My fists balled up and my knuckles cracked as I gripped them tightly. "Matthias. We're breaking up. I don't care what you have to say. You can't just tell me "no". That's nonsensical."

He grabbed my forearm forcibly and I winced. "You're mine, Rosalie," he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

I gritted my teeth. "Let go of me. I'm not afraid anymore."

"Matthias," Blake, from the corner of the common room, muttered lowly. "Back off."

He laughed, though his voice betrayed no humor, ignoring Blake. "You'll always be terrified of me."

And it was probably true. I was starting to panic now; so many scenarios had played out in my head, and this was the wrong one.

"Let go of her, Avery." A familiar voice spoke up, and Albus Potter shoved him away from me.

"Albus, don't-"

"Get your filthy hand off of me!" Matthias snarled.

"Don't touch her," Albus snapped. "She's breaking up with you; take it like a man and walk away."

Matthias' arm sprung forward, and there was a sickening crack as it collided with Albus' nose. He hurled towards the ground, blood streaming from his nostrils.

"You beast!" I yelled, bending over

"Aw, come on Rosie. Let him "take it like a man"," Matthias laughed, mocking Albus in a whiny voice. Some other boys from the couches joined in, making fun of Albus, who was trying to make his nose stop bleeding.

In a heart beat, without much thought, I whipped out my wand and screamed, "Flipendo!", sending Matthias flying backwards and into a wall. "Here, press this against your nose. Let's go to Madam Pomfrey."

I handed Albus my hankerchief and he pressed it against his awkwardly bent nose, wincing. I knew it was probably broken.

Matthias was shouting profanities on the top of his lungs as Georgiana went to go help him up. I ushered Albus out of the common room quickly before Matthias could catch up to us.

"You didn't have to do that," Albus muttered painfully. "He's going to be furious with you."

I shrugged, supporting half of his weight. I strained under him, but just barely; I would make it. "You didn't have to intervene. He's already furious with you."

He sighed. "Thanks for helping me."

"Yeah. I'm sorry he's such a git."

Albus paused for a moment, his tongue running along the inside of his lip. "Was he always so... rough with you? The way he grabbed your arm..."

"No, not really," I lied easily. "He was just really mad, I guess."

"You're fibbing," he accused, looking at me with his emerald eyes slanted.

"Let's focus on getting you to Madam Pomfrey right now, okay?" I said through clenched teeth, not really in the mood to have a heart to heart with small Potter.

* * *

><p>"Did you do this?"<p>

A boisterous voice echoed through the infirmary and I brought my hand to my forehead in frustration.

"Mr. Potter! Lower your voice immediately!" Madam Pomfrey ordered sternly.

He didn't even look at her. "Did you break his nose? You did! You little-"

"James!" Albus said, annoyance laced in his voice. "It wasn't Rosalie. It was Avery."

Potter paused for a tick, mouth opened like he was going to say something. Then, just like that, his anger flickered to Matthias. "That git! I swear, I'm going to tear him apart! First Rosalie, now my brother! My Albus! I-"

He was cut off again by Albus as I watched helplessly. "What do you mean "first Rosalie"? I knew something was up!"

I gave Potter a glare that could murder baby puppies. "You arse!"

"Please!" Madam Pomfrey commanded austerely. "There are sick children trying to sleep in here! Take your little banter outside if you cannot control your voices!"

"Sorry, Madam," Potter muttered, pointedly whispering.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to another bed where someone laid, asleep, with several bruises on his face.

"He was hurting you, wasn't he?" Albus demanded, green eyes burning.

"Its none of your business!" I told him. "Now that Pot- James is here, I'll be going. I hope your nose gets better."

Great. Fucking great! Now, not only was James Potter in on my secret, but his brother Albus was suspicious. I gave Potter a dirty look before exiting the infirmary.


	9. A Match to Remember

****A/N: I've never written a Quidditch match before, so I hope its okay. Thank you all for your reviews! ****

****I need some opinions on my character, Rosalie, after you read this chapter. Do you think she's developed well enough, and does she seem like a Mary Sue? Because the last thing I want is for her to be a Mary Sue. This is my first multi-chapter story, so any critique is welcomed. Thanks for all of your feedback!****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - A Match To Remember<strong>

I was sitting by myself at the Slytherin table, tentatively eating some potatoes that had gone cold thirty minutes ago. I stared at my fork, watching the light reflet dimly on the metal, my mouth slightly parted. Eyes blinking tiredly, I finally dropped my fork and wiped my hand over my face in exhaustion. I cracked my knuckles anxiously, out of habit.

There was a thud as Georgiana sat with Veronique on their side of the table, like usual. I didn't bother telling them that they'd just missed dinner.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Georgiana demanded.

I already knew where this was going. "Fuck off, Ruthford."

She winced when I called her by her last name. That meant I was already pissed and cranky. But she didn't back down; she had probably worked on this speech the entire walk to the Great Hall. "What's been going on with you lately?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, not interested in what she had to say.

"Well, first of all, you broke up with Matthias. And I've been seeing you and Potter exchanging glances lately..."

"Look, Georgiana," I growled. "What I do and who I "exchange glances" with is entirely my business. Keep your huge nose out of my affairs!"

Georgiana's hand rose to her nose at my offence.

"So, you've taking a liking to the Potters then, have you?" Veronique asked me, eyebrows cocked.

"I didn't say that," I said snarkily. "But so what if I did? Why should you care?"

Georgiana shook her head. "You're a smart girl, Rosalie. You were the perfect image of a Pureblood Slytherin two months ago. But now... you're going to create a lot of enemies by hanging out with filthy blood like the Potters."

Shaking my head in disgust, I stood to leave. "I'm not going to listen to this bullshit any longer."

"You need to pick a side, Rosalie!" Veronique called out. "_Its us or them_."

* * *

><p>James snickered with his cousin and best friend, Fred, as they watched some third year Slytherins run around with bright scarlet and gold hair, screeching profanities. It was an old prank, pulled millions of times, but still a classic and very entertaining.<p>

"That's great," Fred laughed. "Where should we strike next?"

James pondered for a minute. "Maybe we should do something with Professor Snape's portrait, or feed some first years the Canary Creams I've had since my fifteenth birthday."

Fred nodded. "All very valid suggestions... Oh, I know! How about we put some Puking Pastilles in that cow Rosalie's drink! Haha, she'd get sick all over the Slytherin table!"

The answer was quick but off beat. James responded with a "no", clearly not impressed by the idea.

Fred's brow furrowed. "Why not? She deserves it."

James shook his head. "Don't talk about Rosalie like that." And he got up and left, leaving Fred terribly confused and unsure.

* * *

><p>Today was the day.<p>

_Gryffindor verses Slytherin._

I cracked my knuckles vigoriously, rotating my head in clockwise circles and grinning like a child on Christmas.

"This is what I've trained you for!" I yelled at my team. There were enthusiastic shouts errupting from all of them, brooms raised into the air like precious trophies. We were all dressed into our green and silver uniforms, numbers permanently stitched to our backs.

I was number 6. I'd always been number 6; I wore it proudly. On my chest, I wore my Captain's badge with dignity.

"We're quick guys. We're smart," I said, voice hushed dramatically. "They take risks, but they don't take them carefully. Observe, guys. Keep your eyes out. Beaters: protect your players at all costs. But most of all, protect the Seeker and the keeper. They are important players.

"Chasers: Don't hoard the ball! I've said it once and I'll say it again. You can't win the game by yourself; its a team effort. Always remember that.

"Albus, well-" I ruffled his black hair with my gloved hand. "You do everything you can to get that snitch."

"Aye, aye!" He mock-saluted me.

I shoved him playfully. "Who's ready to kick some arse? Who's ready to win?"

The sounds of the crowd cheering sent chills down my spine. I couldn't help but grin widely as I ran to the center of the field, where Madam Hooch stood impatiently. Potter was there, too, giving me the most arrogant smirk ever.

"Alright guys. I want a fair game, you hear?" Hooch barked. "Shake hands."

Potter reached out and I swiftly took his hand, shaking it briskly. "Ready to get bitten in the arse?" I asked, challenging him.

He waved the thought away dismissively. "In your dreams, Flint."

Hooch went over some basic rules, but I wasn't listening; I basically breathed Quidditch. Plus, admitted without shame, I'd memorized the entire Quidditch rule book.

"Brooms in the air!" she shouted, and I mounted my broom gracefully, rising into the air to join my team. I got into the position for Chaser, hovering over the center of the field and waiting for Hooch to release the Quaffle.

"Today's going to be quite a match!" A booming voice echoed. It was Siobhan Finnigan's voice, heavly laced with a thick Irish accent like her parents'. She sat in a box near the professors, gripping an amplification device carefully. "Everyone's going to be on the edge of their seats today for the first Slytherin/Gryffindor match of the season!"

Screams errupted from the stands.

I quickly evaluated the Gryffindor team with careful eyes; James Potter was suspended in the air with a beater bat clenched in his hand, a determined look on his face. I recognized the other beater to be Justin Goforth.

Evelyn Wood sat on her broom in front of the goal posts, dressed in top notch Keeper pads. Her father, Oliver Wood, had played for Puddlemere United and was quite famous in the Quidditch world. She would, no doubt, have the best equipment money could buy.

The Gryffindor chasers were Jonathon Thomas, Fred Weasley, and Liz McLaggen. They, too, wore expressions of intense determination. Last but not least, Roxanne Weasley flew up ahead, Seeker goggles planted firmly over her eyes.

My own team was impressively intimidating, especially Albus. I knew Potter was irritated that Albus was on the Slytherin team, and I always took joy in that.

I turned my head to bring my eyes to Hooch. She reached for the buldgers and unbuckled them quickly, releasing them on to the pitch. Instantly, the beaters were after them like hunters chasing their prey. She also released the snitch, but it was impossible to see no matter what, so I didn't bother looking for it.

My focus was entirely on the Quaffle now.

She blew on her whistle with a hard gust, the defeaning, screeching sound hurting my ears. Then, she threw the Quaffle into the air.

Following the stragedy we discussed at practice the other morning, I flew forward into the lions' side of the field. Corrin Vandevort grasped the Quaffle in her arm, steering her broom forwards. With nimble and fluid movements, she threw the Quaffle to Scorpius, but the pass was intercepted by Fred. Scowling, Corrin followed James hot on his tail, until he passed the Quaffle to Liz.

While the Quaffle was being knocked around, the Beaters were busy protecting the players.

"And James Potter sends a nasty buldger at Corrin Vandevort, but Elliot Guff deflects it and sends it flying at Justin Goforth! Ouch, thats going to leave a mark," Siobhan boomed.

I looked to my left to see Scorpius throw the Quaffle at me. I quickly caught it in my hands and flew towards the goal, tossing it towards the lowest hoop. Unfortunately, Evelyn Wood was fast and kicked it to Thomas.

"Rosalie Flint makes a great shot but Evelyn Wood is too quick!"

I scowled.

My cloaks billowed behind me as I continued flying. The game continued on like this for a while. About thirty minutes later, the score was 40 - 10, Gryffindor leading, and Guff was in the infirmary with a concussion.

This wasn't going the way I expected.

Roland was holding off well on his own, but just one Beater wasn't enough.

I hurriedly intercepted a pass between Thomas and McLaggen, zooming towards the Gryffindor goals. I gracefully avoided a buldger, which flew at me with sickening speed. By dodging it, it smacked into McLaggen behind me with a disgusting crack.

"Flint dodges the buldger sent at her by Potter, only to have it bring McLaggen down! Flint flies forward and throws the Quaffle at the hoops and... she scores! Ten points for Slytherin!"

Cheers errupted from the Slytherins in the stands and I smirked. Soon enough, the ball was back in play.

Another ten minutes later, and the score was 50 - 30. I looked up ahead and saw Roxanne flying after the Snitch with great speed, Albus behind her.

No. We couldn't lose. We _weren't_ going to lose.

"What a save by Cadmus Galloway! And James sends a nasty buldger at his brother, Albus-"

The thought registered in my mind and my stomach flopped._ If Potter took out Albus, Roxanne was sure to catch the snitch. _The thought of Gryffindor celebrating their victory made me sick and I decided rather arrogantly that it wasn't going to happen.

I stopped listening to Siobhan's play by play of the scenario and, acting on impulse, I pushed myself to go faster and faster towards Albus. He seemed to be oblivious, not noticing the buldger flying at him with terrible accuracy, or me barreling towards him determinedly.

"If this buldger hits Albus, he'll be out for the rest of game and Gryffindor will be- What's this? It looks like Flint is trying to get in between the buldger and Albus! She's trying to take the hit for their star Seeker!"

I came to a halt in the air between Albus and the buldger, waiting as it grew closer and closer... In a matter of seconds, I felt an excruciating pain in my stomach and heard a repulsive, splintering sound. The blow knocked me off of my broom, but I couldn't understand what was happening. All I could think about was the immense pain.

It felt like everything I saw was through a thick fog. My vision was blurred and my hearing was hazy.

And then I saw black.

* * *

><p>"What is she doing?"<p>

James watched, dumbfounded, as he watched Rosalie towards Albus, who wasn't aware of the scene going on behind him. His brother was inching closer and closer to the snitch, slowly passing his cousin Roxanne.

Rosalie stopped and within three seconds, the buldger connected with her thin body and the crack was so loud, even James heard it from the other side of the pitch. The sound distracted Roxanne for half a second, but by then it was too late. Albus reached forward and grabbed the snitch in his hand victoriously. Flint was unconscious as she fell towards the ground, landing with a disgusting crunch.

"And Albus Potter catches the snitch! 150 points for Slytherin; Slytherin wins the match! Rosale Flint has- holy shit, is that blood?"

McGonagall didn't even have time to yell at Siobhan about her language. She hurried to Rosalie's crumpled body on the pitch with Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey by her sides.

James ran a trembling hand through his hair nervously before landing, like the other players, near Rosalie and examining the damage.

She was lying on her side, curled into an ball. Some of her ribs were obviously broken, poking out of her stomach unnaturally. Her leg was bent awkwardly and the back of her head was gushing blood from an odious gash. On top of that, her wrist was twisted and her nose was dripping more blood.

"Ugh," Roland muttered and turned his face away. James heard someone puke behind him.

"Everyone back away!" Madam Pomfrey yelled. "She's seriously injured! Potter, you carry her to the infirmary!" She ordered.

James stood there with his mouth agape.

"Now!"

Blinking back to reality, he bent over and scooped the light girl into his arms. Her head lolled backwards and her cracked lips parted slightly from the motion.

James obeyed Pomfrey and carried her all the way to the infirmary. Only when he put her down did he see all of the blood on his left hand and he shut his eyes tightly.

He couldn't help but feel responsible for Rosalie's injuries. It had been him, after all, who sent the viscious buldger at his own brother. Rosalie was an acceptable- no, an outstanding Quidditch player and captain, and this sacrifice had allowed them to win the first match.

She deserved it.


	10. Broken  Literally

**A/N: ****I just wanted to tell you guys that this is the farthest I've ever gotten with a fanfiction, and I am so excited for what's been done and what will be done with this story and these characters. **Once again, many thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed this story! You all are simply wonderful!****

****2/11/12 - Sorry for the late update! I tried to log onto FF but it was being weird :1 Hope you enjoy!****

**Chapter 10 - Broken**

"Ow."

My voice was hoarse and my lips were dry and cracked. I woke up that morning (or was it the afternoon?) to the sound of Blake and James arguing with Albus laughing. I had the worst headache ever, and no clue as to why I had it. Every part of me hurt, like all of my bones had been crushed and every inch of me bruised and cut.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think.

Why was I here?

"Rosalie?" Blake said tentatively. "Are you awake?"

"What happened?" I whispered. "Where am I?"

Someone took a sharp breath. I opened my eyes and saw three people crowded around me with serious expressions on their faces.

"Do you know who I am?" Potter asked with clear brown eyes.

I wanted to hit him. "Of course I know who you are, you numpty! Now answer my question! Am I... am I in the infirmary?"

"Well, at least we know she has no brain damage," Albus snickered.

"She's always had brain damage," Potter muttered.

"What are you doing here?" I grunted tiredly, bringing a hand to my forehead.

Potter snorted. "I'm obviously here to see whether or not you've died."

I rolled my eyes and turned to Blake, who was sitting in a chair next to my bed. "What happened?"

He pursed his lips. "You were hit by a buldger."

"Then why do I bleeding hurt everywhere?" I snapped testily.

"Because, first off, it was a _really fast_ buldger. Secondly, you fell off of your broom and dropped from quite a height..."

"Well," I grumbled. "That explains it. Did we win?"

"What?"

"Did we win? The match...?"

He groaned. "Is quidditch all you care about? You're in the bloody infirmary with a stitched-up head, a broken leg, broken ribs, and a bloody sprained wrist!"

I gasped. "Blake! I need to ask you something important!"

"Anything."

"Did... did I lose any hair?"

Potter and little Potter started cracking up and I yelled, "This is serious!"

Blake gave me a disgruntled look and decided, "No, Rosalie. I don't think you lost any hair. And if you did, Madam Pomfrey did an excellent job regrowing it."

"Good," I said, laying back against the soft pillow.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey walked over to my bed. "Didn't I tell you lot that if she woke up, you should call me over immediately?" she demanded.

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," Albus apologized.

"How are you doing, Miss Flint?" she asked me kindly, pouring some sort of potion into a vile, probably for me to drink.

"I hurt," I answered honestly.

"That's to be expected," she said sternly. " You lost quite a lot over a silly match of quidditch!"

"Well, we won, didn't we?" I said, trying to laugh but it came out as more of a wheeze.

She gave me a look that was clearly not amused. "Well, here's some Skele-Gro-"

"No!" I said, pushing it away. "Please, Gods, no! Not that retched stuff!"

I'd taken Skele-Gro once before; in third year, after Potter pushed me down the stairs on the way to Hagrid's hut on Hogwart's school grounds.

"Miss Flint!" Pomfrey said, an eyebrow risen. "You will take this potion and you will take it gratefully!"

I pouted, but took the vile into my hand cautiously. "Bottom's up," I said nervously, before downing the disgusting potion. It was absolutely terrible, just as it had been three years ago. "Ack! Alright, what's next?"

"A potion to numb the pain," she said. "And Sleeping Draught."

"More sleep?" I asked, alarmed. "What about my studies?"

"Only you would care about that," Potter said in disdain.

"Haha," I laughed without humor. "And quidditch practices?"

"I must demand four more days of bed rest from you, Miss Flint," Pomfrey said in a motherly tone of voice. "To allow your bones to heal properly and all of your wounds to close up nicely, without any flaws."

I bit the inside of my cheek anxiously. "But-"

"No buts," she refused. "Now, take these potions and I'll leave you and your friends alone for the rest of their visit."

I nodded, swallowing the potions in single gulps. Handing Pomfrey the empty viles, she scurried over to another bed, where Elliot Guff laid with a huge knot on her forehead. He had gotten a concussion during our game yesterday. Or this morning. I wasn't exactly sure.

"How long have I been knocked out?" I slurred.

"Since you fell yesterday," Albus said.

I paused for a moment, thinking. Guff's concussion... McLaggen getting hit by a buldger... Siobhan's voice... Albus and James...

"Wait a second... it was you who hit that buldger!" I yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Potter.

He winced. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

I scowled. "Bloody arse. I can't believe you'd send a buldger like that at your own brother!"

"Thank you!" Albus said, throwing his hands into the air.

A wave of exhaustion fell over me. I grew slightly dizzy as the Sleeping Draught started to effect me.

Blake, who had remained quiet for a majority of his visit, said, "The potions are starting to kick in. We should leave."

"Okay." Potter jumped off of his chair, as did his brother.

"Get better. "We have to win the match against Louis Friday night," Albus said with a wink.

I laughed drowsily. "I'll be out of here before you can say _sneaky snitches_. I'm going to go mad!"

"See you later, Rosalie," Potter said, waving at me with a grin on his face.

"You're on my hit list, Potter," I grumbled. "Watch your back!"

His grin faltered, as if he was deciding whether or not my threat was serious. He must have thought my command wasn't dangerous, though, because he replied with a "get better, my love!" and blew a kiss.

"Potter!"

* * *

><p>Madam Pomfrey always had injured students put on bed rest for far too long. Nevertheless, she was an incredibly stubborn healer and was not to be trifled with. So, in the end, I suffered exactly four days of practically being chained to the bed before I was released. During my stay, Mariette brought some flowers for me and sweets. Mother wrote to me and said she and Father were swamped with work, so they couldn't visit and wished me "the best".<p>

It was late Wednesday afternoon when Pomfrey let me go. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but I was starving. So, before I walked back to my dormitory, I decided to stop by the kitchens.

The halls were empty, which concluded that classes were still in session. I retrieved a sandwich from the kitchens, gave Polly a quick but sincere "thank you", and returned to my dormitory for the first time that week.

Surprisingly, my bed looked extremely tempting. But then I saw huge piles of homework and the determined side of me decided that I should get started on it. I reached into the relentless pit, finding all sorts of Potions homework and History essays to be completed.

It was difficult to work with my right hand trapped inside of a cast. As I had only sprained the tendons in my wrist, and hadn't actually injured any of the bones, Skele-Gro couldn't help. I was forced to let it heal slowly and naturally. But I made do, scribbling words down messily with my left hand. The script was just barely readable.

An hour later, Georgiana and Veronique walked in together. They were always together.

"Rosalie. Good to see you're back," Georgiana sneered, placing her books down on her comforter. "Well, you're not that injured. And Roland was making such a big deal about it."

I gritted my teeth. "Well, its not like you would know. You didn't visit me while I was on bed rest. _At all_."

Georgiana and Veronique had always been best friends, the closest in our group. It had always been that way, since day one. I was shoved out of their little duo, and they didn't pay much attention to me. As an eleven year old, that had hurt. Bad. And it still did, not that I'd ever say that out loud. So, while in the infirmary, I had been blindly hoping they'd drop by.

Just once.

They didn't.

"I don't know why I hang around you two. You both realize that without me, you're nothing, right?" I bit, snarling.

Georgiana stiffened, but didn't reply. Veronique looked at me with deep brown eyes, waiting.

"You didn't choose me, Ruthford. I chose you. But I could drop you, too. At any minute. At any second. And you'd lose everything you've built here at Hogwarts." I stood, ignoring the pain that vibrated in my body, and smirked cruelly. "Just food for thought."

"You're just a cold-hearted bitch!" Georgianna screamed at me, while my back was turned.

"But I'm a _powerful_, cold-hearted bitch, Georgiana. And you'd do well to remember that."

* * *

><p>James sat at the long wood table, his head resting in the palms of his hands and his eyes glinting with couldn't take his eyes off of Matthias Avery.<p>

He sat with other Slytherins, but didn't converse with them as he sat, brooding. His arms were folded tightly and coldly, while his eyes lingered on Rosalie's pale frame. She was either oblivious to his stare or ignoring him; either way, he was discontent and agitated with her.

"Who are you staring at?" Molly asked with her mouth full of potatoes.

He turned to her slowly, as if he took his eyes off of Matthias for too long, he'd do something unfathomable. "No one."

She snorted, pushing a lock of Weasley orange hair behind her freckled ear. "Please, James. You're a terrible liar."

He sighed. "Fine. I'm watching Avery."

"Why? Have a man crush?" she joked lightly.

James looked horrified by her nonsensical assumption. "Of course not! That's revolting!"

She cleared her throat. "Ah yes. Right."

He turned his head back to Matthias, who's dark features were magnified by the lack of lighting in the Great Hall.

"But seriously, James. Why the bloody hell are you stalking Matthias?" Molly continued, pressing him for information he didn't feel obligated to share with her. She watched him with clear blue eyes expectantly. "Where ever he goes, you follow. Its like you're afraid if someone leaves him by himself, he'll do something completely evil."

He clenched his jaw. "That's because he will, Molly. I can just feel it in my bones."

"You're being ridiculous," she muttered.

"You wait and see," he retorted, his glare returning once more to Matthias.

And it was true; James could feel something. It was right around the corner, right out of his sight. Matthias wasn't a fool, and being publicly ridiculed by Rosalie was going to cost her.

Speaking of Rosalie, she was on the receiving end of not one, but two glares. That Ruthford girl, Georgiana, was staring at her, pug-like features full of anger and spite. She was whispering with Veronique about something, who sniggered in response.

What had Rosalie gotten herself into?


	11. Totally Barbaric

**A/N: Okay, so my computer's been acting up lately and not letting me get onto my account as much as I need to. I'm hoping that I'll be able to update on a regular basis still, but just in case I seem kind of off... there's a logical explanation! Also, I am going on a skiing trip to Quebec, so I won't be able to update for two weeks. Just a heads up. I'm going to try to get a chapter up of _A Stupid Thing Called Love_, and then I'll have a long chapter of this story when I get back ;) **

** Here are some replies to anon. reviewers:**

**Allie - I'm glad you've been enjoying the story! What you brought up is probably one of the hardest things I'm dealing with: when does their relationship become friendlier and less awkward? I'm trying not to just jump into a "BFF" friendship, just trying to merge into it but I'm not sure if I'm doing the greatest job. Let me know what you think? Thanks! And thanks for your review!**

**Alyse - I know right? I find it incredibly annoying when writers don't allow anonymous reviews - just because I'm too lazy to log on and submit a review ;P thank you so much for reviewing! **

_**Chapter 11 - Totally Barbaric **_

* * *

><p><em>The first of December, two thousand and twenty<em>

Dearest Miss Rosalie Flint,

You are cordially invited to the Slug Club's annual Christmas dinner and party. You are allowed to bring one guest with you. Please respond by the twelfth of December.

Yours expectantly_, Professor Horace Slughorn_

* * *

><p>I stared down at the elegant scroll, hands shaking slightly. The last time I went to one of Slughorn's get togethers... I couldn't go. I wouldn't go.<p>

"So, I was thinking of going with Blake," Georgiana said mindlessly, brushing through her dark curls. "I know he's into me."

"Of course he is," Veronique giggled. "You two would be a perfect match!"

My insides gagged. Blake was most definitely not interested in Georgiana. She was just foolishly blind to the facts. Blake Zabini was not into any of the girls at Hogwarts, especially not the notorious whore Georgiana Ruthford. Her intimate life wasn't unknown to the people at Hogwarts.

"How about you, Ver?"

She paused for a second, as if she were deciding which guy would be her play thing for the night of Slughorn's party. "Probably Merrick Roland. Dear Godric, he is a walking sex god."

"Could you guys quiet down? Just for a second?" I asked, agitated by their asinine girl talk.

There was silence, until Georgiana shattered it. "Why? Jealous we can get dates and you can't?"

I turned to face her with a harsh, frigid glare. "Is that a challenge?"

She backed down like the coward she was. Her voice was lighter when she said, "No, no," and glanced at Veronique.

"Who are you going with, anyways?" Veronique asked, playing with her blond hair.

I faced the opposite wall again, my back to them. "I don't want to go to Slughorn's party," I said with finality.

"Really? What a shame. I heard Matthias was planning on asking Cassandra Sinclair," Georgiana inserted slyly.

"And I should care why?" I asked her without looking back.

"Don't you want to make him jealous?"

"Certainly not," I scoffed. "I'm the one who broke up wth him, remember?"

"You're no fun," she told me.

"Whatever," I sighed.

The less attention I got from Matthias, the better off I would be. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to believe he was actually done with me, but the last thing I wanted was to be his prey again, after I'd just gotten rid of him.

"You could show up without a date," Veronique suggested.

"That would be terribly pathetic," I answered. "I'm not going, okay?"

'"I bet you'd go if Potter asked you," Georgiana said snottily, flipping her glossy hair back over her shoulder. She peeked at me with piercing dark eyes.

For that remark, I faced them again,my face contorted in new-found frustration. "Do you really think I'd sink that low?" I snarled. "Potter and I have nothing together! We're not meeting in secret, we're not best mates, and we certainly are not attracted to each other! Just give it up already! You have tested me beyond my limits, Georgiana. I am done with you and your ridiculous, odious antics! I hate Potter!"

* * *

><p>I stood in front of my neat work station, patiently chopping up some Valerian roots for my Draught of Living Death. My cauldron, sitting close to my left forearm, was bubbling loudly, as were everyone else's as students worked around me.<p>

Potions was one of the many classes I shared with Gryffindor. I could hear Weasel and Potter fooling around in the back of the room instead of working diligently, like most of us. I glanced at Blake, who stood beside me, giving him an annoyed look. He nodded slightly in agreement.

My Potions partner had always been Matthias, but ever since we broke up, he's been trying to get close to every girl he could, especially when I was watching. Usually, it just frustrated me but today was particularly bad. He was whispering into Cassandra Sinclair's ear, and she was giggling as she sprinkled some Asphodel powder into her cauldron. Her light blond curls bounced as she turned to give me a smug grin.

My grip tightened around my knife as I tried to ignore them. Honestly, I wasn't in the least bit jealous. How could I be? But it annoyed me that they thought I was envious.

I couldn't hear what they were saying, thankfully, but trying to drown them out was an impossibility. Everyone in the room was staring at them, and even Slughorn couldn't ignore them. Every now and then, he would glance up at them with confused eyes, then his stare turning to me, before flicking back to them, and finally returning to whatever he had been doing before.

Sighing heavily, I forked my Valerian roots into the cauldron and watched as they dissolved in the elixir perfectly. Smiling distractedly at my flawless work, I wiped my hands on my skirt and reached for snake fangs that I had set aside. I began to skillfully grind them into clumpy bits.

"Could I have some of that Asphodel powder?" Blake asked quietly, not making eye contact with me.

Picking up the jar, I handed it to him and returned to my work. Soon, I was on the last step: the sopophorous beans. I took my knife into my hand once more and tried to crush the bean with the side of the blade (a trick I'd picked up from a portrait in the headmistress' study).

"Could you show me how?" Cassandra whispered to Matthias. It wasn't much of a whisper, though, considering I could hear it from over at my desk.

I gritted my teeth irately and tried to focus on my bean.

"Yeah," he said huskily. "You just take the knife and cut off the top... like this." By now, he had his hand on top of her's and it was eating me alive. Couldn't they have their little lovefest somewhere else? Like, far away from me?

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Good job."

She giggled.

"You're almost as good as Rosalie."

"Damn it!"

I looked down at my finger, which was now gushing blood. I had accidentially sliced my pointer finger while I was listening to Matthias and Cassandra's quiet exchange. _As good as me?_ I internally scoffed._ Yeah right!_ I was the best student in the class.

"Language, Miss Flint- Oh, dear me. Your finger," Slughorn said, looking over from his desk at my own work station, peering through his stacks of books and viles of potions.

At that moment, there was a pop and a sudden pain as something small hit the back of my scalp.

"Oops," Potter whispered from the back of the room, hands frozen in the air as if he had made to move, but was too late.

All I could see was red. Millions of thoughts ripped through my head as I stood there for a second, impassively, letting everything resurface.

And then that second ended.

"Potter! You insolent, vulgar git! I'm going to murder you!" All of my anger and spite caved in on me, flooding my senses. I sprinted across the room and slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. "Oh, Merlin's fucking saggy balls! You idiot! You stupid idiot!" I realized vaguely that I was getting blood on his shirt and his throat as I continued to hit him with my injured hand, but right then I didn't care.

The classroom burst into chatter and yells and laughter, watching me savagely attack Potter like a raging barbarian.

"Flint! Get off of me!" he yelled, trying to shove me off but failing.

"Rosalie!" Blake pulled me off of Potter, holding me back from aggressively pinning him down again.

"Miss Flint! Please refrain yourself!" Slughorn yelled. The classroom started to die down until it finally became silent. "Go see Madam Pomfrey about your finger, then return to my classroom immediately! That type of behaviour will not be tolerated in my class."

Huffing, I clenched my jaw and muttered a "Yes, professor," before leaving the room without my bag or books.

The snickers of Fred Weasley and James Potter did not go unnoticed.

* * *

><p>My shoes slapped against the cold, stone ground as I held out my wand lazily, patrolling the corridors less than cautiously. Light grew from the tip of my wand, casting all of the shadows and darkness away. The contrast between the light and the dark was hautingly beautiful.<p>

My viscious outburst and attack on Potter had earned me a week's worth of detention and three late-night patrols. Fortunately for me, I didn't mind patrolling later into the evening and my detentions were with Professor Trelawney. She was a nut case absolutely through and through, but cleaning tea-cups and crystal balls was definitely preferred over detention with the oaf Hagrid or with a fuming Slughorn. I didn't feel too bad about it though; I would get back into his good graces by the holidays.

And it had felt food to hit Potter. That prat.

About an hour into my rounds, I heard the unmistakable swish of a cloak and gentle but heavy footsteps. At first, I ignored it; I really didn't feel like running into the likes of Flich at this hour. But as I continued to walk, I couldn't evade them any longer. It had become obvious to me that whoever it was, they were following me. A professor coincidentally walking in the same direction as me? Probably not. Potter getting revenge? Believable.

Wielding my wand offensively, I called out in a hushed voice.

"Hello?"

And suddenly, I was pinned to the wall, hard hands gripping my shoulders.

"You're so hot when you go all psycho on Potter," a voice hissed in the darkness. "I really had trouble hiding my enthusiasm in Potions today."

My heart thudded, encaged painfully in my chest, as I stared into the icy eyes of Matthias.

"What do you want?" I snapped, my voice sounding so much stronger than what I actually felt.

"You," he answered simply and I cringed.

"I broke up with you," I growled. "We're over!"

"No," he told me, his hot breath on my cheek making me feel clausterphobic and uncomfortable. "We'll never be over."

"Just... just leave me alone!" I said, breaking. "Please."

He laughed humorlessly. Cruelly. Snidely. There were so many ways to describe it, but only one way to feel it. The way it vibrated down your spine, and sent shivers all over your body - that was indescribable. "I'll never leave you alone, darling." He brought his fingers to my forehead, pushing a lock of dark hair behind my ear. "I love you, Rosie."

I tried to duck under his arms, but he shoved me back against the wall, closing in on me.

"Don't touch me!"

He tsked me. "Don't be like that. But then again, I did always like them fiesty."

His voice sent shivers down my spine. His very presence made my hands tremble and my palms grow sweaty.

Matthias smiled at me. "See you later, Rosalie."

Then he was gone.

And I was alone with my thoughts.


	12. Living Nightmare

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry this took so long, but I just returned from my skiing trip in Quebec and it was fabulous! I have a large chapter for you (a whopping 3,167 words) and I am proud to say it is the longest chapter I have ever written. Enjoy! (And I've already started the next chapter, so don't be too worried if I leave you with a cliffie ;))**

**Chapter 12 - Living Nightmare**

The mindless chatter of other students buzzed dimly in my ears as I groggily stared into space, eyes drooping and jaw slightly slack.

How is it possible to lay in your bed all night and not receive one wink of sleep, and then spend the rest of the day wanting only to curl under some blankets and pass out for a couple hours? I don't know, but that scenario describes my morning perfectly.

Sleep hadn't come to me at all last night. I couldn't help but feel closed up and terrified that something would happen to me if I closed my eyes. It sounded pathetic and deplorable, but I couldn't help it. How could I have allowed myself to become so scared of a single individual?

"Late night patrols getting to you?" Georgiana asked simply from her usual seat, sipping her tea comfortably.

I pursed my lips. "Sure."

"Better get some caffeine into your system," she told me. "Mid-terms are right around the bend."

"Believe me; no one knows that better than myself," I snipped, examining my breakfast distastefully.

"You're so touchy in the mornings," she said decidedly.

Growling, I muttered, "You're so annoying in the mornings. And every other time of day."

She sneered at my weak retort before turning away. I slouched into the table, wanting nothing more then to keel over and sleep. The only thing that kept me awake was Matthias, sitting six seats away, his eyes meeting me every other minute.

"What's wrong with you?" Blake inquired from my left side.

"Tired," I grumbled.

He took a bite of his toast before responding. "Why? You look as if you're going to pass out."

I snorted. "Feel's like it." I ran a hand over my face. "Didn't sleep last night."

Blake didn't push any further. We sat in silence for a while until I almost dozed off and he pushed my forearm a little. I sat up, fixing my robes and taking a big gulp of coffee in hopes of waking myself up.

"Who are you taking to Slughorn's party?" I asked, eyes wider as I attempted to remain alert.

He paused, before saying, "I don't know." His eyes cautiously glanced to Georgiana, and he cringed when she batted her eyelashes at him. "Perhaps I won't even go at all."

"Well then. We can be loners together." I took another sip from my mug, not nearly as greedily as before.

His eyes watched mine, like they were staring straight into my soul. It was chilling. "You're not planning on going?" For some reason, his voice got lower and his features became more guarded. Instead of taking this pretense seriously, though, I pretended that I didn't notice. I was far too exhausted to even think straight.

Shaking my head, I picked up my fork and started stabbing my eggs. They jiggled. My nose wrinkled. "No. No one's asked me; I'm assuming impressive yet intimidating image has scared all of the guys away. Or maybe I just smell." I sniffed my arm in a humorous manner, trying to change the sudden, serious air that had engulfed us. I didn't want to hear what he was about to say, even though I had a clue as to what the news would be.

His expression didn't change. "Rosalie, Matthias has told everyone that he's taking you."

I dropped my fork and threw up my hands in defeat, a sinking feeling abrupting in my stomach. "That's just wonderful. That's completely fucking wonderful."

* * *

><p>"How does this one look?"<p>

Georgiana modeled a black satin dress for Veronique and me, but I was starting to loose interest. It was probably the eleventh dress she had tried on, and I usually didn't have enough patience to reach the fifth. But with everything weighing down on me, I didn't have time to argue with Georgiana about something as silly as dresses. My thoughts kept swirling around Matthias; I was literally terrified that he was just going to show up everywhere I went, so I continued to keep a close eye on our surroundings, also.

We were in a small, warm dress shop in the middle of Hogsmeade, sitting in some tacky chairs and crowded by tons of girls searching for dresses, too. It wasn't my idea to spend my Saturday here. I had actually planned on studying for our mid-terms, but Veronique and Georgiana had literally coerced me to come.

"Stunning," Veronique commented. "I think this in the one, don't you agree Rosalie?"

Snapping out of my reverie, I muttered, "Yeah. Wonderful."

Georgiana clapped her hands. "I thought so too! I love this dress! I'm going to get it."

"Are you sure you don't want to look for a dress?" Veronique asked me. "Isn't there just a small chance that you'll decide to go to the party? It's already late, and you don't want to miss your chance."

"No," I answered briskly. "I'm not going to Slughorn's silly little party. And even if I did change my mind at the last minute, I already have a dress in my closet."

Her attention was caught. "Really? What brand?"

"I think it's a Mariona," I replied, checking my nails nonchalantly.

"How come I've never seen it before?" she demanded, eyes wide, almost outraged. "Marionas are the most expensive gowns money can buy! And you just have one casually hanging up in your side of the closet?"

"Of course, I've hidden it and protected it with some enchantments," I snapped, slightly frustrated that she'd take me for a fool. "I've had it since the dinner party I went to in Spain with Father and Marcus. Remember? I asked you and Georgiana if you two wanted to go dress shopping with me, but you guys had "plans"."

Her lips formed an 'O' shape. "What's it like?"

"It's red and strapless wth a ruffled skirt and jeweled design on the front," I said, thinking about the dress. It truly was a beautiful gown, and I was sad I had only worn it once.

After Georgiana bought her dress, she and Veronique decided to go back to Hogwarts and put together their outfits for the party tomorrow. I hung around the center of Hogsmeade for a bit, then opted for a walk to the Shrieking Shack.

I stepped on the crisp, sticky snow, enjoying the soft crunching underneath my shoes. The path was cold and desolate, forgotten by most of the students at Hogwarts. I could find solitude when I walked there; I was always allowed silence and a moment to clear my head. The trees were naked without their leaves and the wind howled like an old dog. My black hair whipped around my face as I trudged down the beaten path, nose chilled and eyes watering. I pulled my winter coat closer to my body as I watched my breath fog up the air in front of me. My lips were chapped, but I didn't mind.

After ten minutes of walking, I found the Shrieking Shack with little effort. I brushed off a familiar boulder, removing all of the wet snow and planting myself on top of the cold stone. The hard, icy texture of the rock leaked through my jeans, but it didn't bother me too much. I placed my elbows on top of my knees and my chin into my palms, a thoughtful position, as if I were preparing myself for thinking.

I was good at thinking. I loved to think. Except for today.

Literally, I could feel everything fall down; all of my walls and defenses. My face fell into a deep expression.

I felt like a huge bundle of messy, uncontrolled emotions. It was like my mind couldn't be contained; I couldn't stop myself from going too far with everything. Last year, I didn't have to second guess everything, but now I feelt insecure and unsafe and very, very vulnerable. Did I deserve to feel like that? I mean, I knew I wasn't the nicest person- screw it. I'm a bitch to everybody. I was nasty about what my family believed in and wouldn't let anyone try to tell me anything else otherwise. But I'm still human, right? I have the right to feel unprotected and uncertain and the ability to change my mind.

Right?

Was everything I believed in worth fighting for? Did I even truly believe in it? Or have I just been following my parents like a blind and deaf human being? Were they feeding me lies? Did they even believe in it themselves? What about Marcus and Mariette? What did they put their hopes in?

So many questions swirled around in my head. I felt nauseous.

Was I cursed to an entire life in this living, endless hell? Was I going to end up like Mother? Miserable with no love or hope?

I bit my lip as I wondered if I was going to end up chained to Matthias. I certainly didn't want anything to do with him; I didn't want to date him, I didn't want to marry him, and I didn't want to bear his name or children.

But it was very likely. Extremely likely, almost set in stone. Mother and Father liked him and he was a pureblood. In their eyes, they probably couldn't imagine what was holding me back from jumping on the band wagon.

I hated him. I hated everything about him and his slimy guts. Why couldn't he have picked Georgiana or Veronique? Why did he have to choose me?

I was pulled out of my torturous thoughts by a very abrupt bang. I nearly fell into the bank of snow next to my boulder from the shock. My hand instantly flew to my wand and I whipped it out, wielding it aggressively. Soon enough, I realized that the noise hadn't come from anywhere near me, but from the run down shack that was supposedly haunted. Voices filled the normally silent air, laughter exploding and chatter mindlessly ensuing.

Arms stiffening, I vaguely wondered whether or not the rumors were true. There was only one way to the Shrieking Shack and that including walking by me. And, of course, nobody had walked past me. I grew cautious and, on a whim, stood and walked over to the fence seperating me from the shed.

More sounds drifted from the snow-covered hill. The voices were familiar but very muffled, so I couldn't be sure of anything. Weighing my options, I decided to climb to fence and let my curiousity get the best of me. I trudged through the untouched snow, feeling the ice seep through my clothes, eyes watching the Shrieking Shack tentatively. I fell ungracefully, once, getting some cold wetness into my hair. Angry, I shoved my way through the thigh-high snow.

When I reached the door, I noticed a big lock on the door. I quickly muttered, "Alohomora," and removed it from the chipped door. I pulled it open carefully, pering into the inside of the shack.

It was dusty, dirty, and just how the inside of a deserted shack should look like. Obviously, though, someone had or was in here, as the dust was disruppted and floating all over the place.

"Did you hear that?" a voice muttered.

"Yeah," breathed the other. "Someone else is here."

"Do you think they followed us?"

"Of course not! We had the cloak, remember?"

The voices were becoming less vague by the second. I began to realize who the two were, and furious that they had interrupted my quiet time, my hands flew to my hips.

"Did they use the trap door or the front door?"

"No one's used the front door for years," the voice reasoned.

"Oi, you two!" I shouted. "I'm not deaf, you gits!"

A head popped out from the loft above and a smirk appeared on his face. "Hey Rosie! How'd you find us?"

I pointed my wand at him threatingly, ignoring his question. "Call me Rosie one more time and I'll hex you."

James Potter turned to his companion Weasel, still wearing a grin. "It's just Flint."

"_Just Flint_?" Fred hissed. "What are you two now, best mates?"

"I want to know what's going on here, you toerags," I yelled up at them. "How the hell did you get in here without me noticing?"

"Our amazing ninja skills?" Potter offered. "Or maybe you are deaf after all."

I rolled my eyes. "Haha, aren't you just the funniest? I'm being serious."

"My middle name is Sirius," he said, laughing. Even Fred lightened up at his corny pun.

"How the hell did you get in here?" I shouted, frustrated with his lack of cooperation. I searched around the small shack for a while, until my eyes reached a trap door, covered by shadows. I shuffled over to it, reaching down and pulling the rope attached to it with all of my strength. Much to my content, it revealed a case of stairs that led to a very dark and damp tunnel.

"Aren't you two cheeky?" I asked, looking back up at them. Both of their eyes watched me carefully, waiting for my reaction. "How'd you find this secret tunnel?"

"Like we'd tell you," Fred snorted, dark curls jolting as he moved himself into a more comfortable position. I lost sight of his face again.

"Sorry, darling. Marauders only," Potter answered.

It took a moment for me to decide whether I was going to yell at him for calling me darling, or continue with my investigation and ask about the term he'd just thrown at me. I opted for the latter.

"Marauder? What's that?" I inquired, stepping closer to the ladder which would lead me to the loft.

"It's us," he told me coolly.

"So let me get this straight: you're in a two-man club and you've decided to name it? Losers," I retorted.

"Takes one to know one," Potter replied lamely.

"What cloak were you two talking about?" I asked, drilling my next question.

"Think about it. You'll get in eventually; you're smart enough. Now go back to where ever you came from, Flint. You've interrupted our club meeting for long enough."

I honestly didn't want to leave until all of my questions were answered. But, then again, I didn't really want to spend the rest of that day trapped inside of a tiny shack with Potter and Weasel.

"Tossers," I grumbled.

"Nosey parker," he said from the loft, now also out of sight.

"Pillock."

"Idiot."

"Can I use this passage to get back to Hogwarts?"

"No," Potter answered immediately.

"I will anyway," I responded briskly, walking towards the open trap door. "I don't really fancy trudging through the snow all over again."

"You're going to get lost, and then I'll have to come and save your arse. Or, I might just keep you in there, save the world some grief," Potter told me.

"Oh, put a cork in it. "I'll get it eventually. I'm smart enough,"" I muttered, quoting him from just moments ago. I put my first foot in and felt the cold draft waver over me.

His head popped out again. "I'm really serious, Rosalie. We can only find our way with the map; imagine how lost you'll be _without_ it."

"What map?" I said, pausing.

"It doesn't matter!" he yelled, getting frustrated. "Really, just go back the way you came."

I considered his warnings for a minute. It wasn't like Potter to tell me the truth about anything, so I guessed he was right about the tunnel. But I still felt an urge to go against what he said. I was so tempted to continue down the steps, but finally I sighed, turned, and looked up at Dumb and Dumber. "This isn't over. I'm on to you two."

* * *

><p>Staring into the mirror tiredly, I vigorously brushed my teeth. I spit the foaming tooth paste into the sink, a miffed expression on my face.<p>

_An invisibility cloak. _

That git had an invisibility cloak!

I couldn't believe it, although it fit together perfectly. That night I had run into him in the kitchens, a couple of months ago... he had been wearing it and I had totally forgotten about it.

Stupid me.

My thoughts began racing with millions of things that could be accomplished with an item like that. Invisibility? Yes please. Gods, what I would do to get my hands on something like that.

I wiped remaining toothpaste from my lips and placed my toothbrush next to the sink gently. After running a brush through my ebony hair several times, I returned to my dormitory and sat down on the edge of my perfectly-made bed.

Georgiana and Veronique were giggling about something in one of their trashy magazines. I rolled my eyes and glared down at my feet, my head pounding with the most aggravating migraine.

Minutes later, I decided to take a journey to the Hospital Wing and retrieve a headache potion from Poppy Pomfrey. She was determined to taking my temperature before I left, but I refused, telling her it was only a common headache and that it wouldn't be necessary.

Downing the potion in one sip, I threw the disposable vial away and shuffled down the empty corridors. Most students were getting ready for Slughorn's party or just hanging out in their common rooms.

Roaming the deserted halls without any destination, I decidedly began to stumble towards the library. Unfortunately, I didn't make it there.

Fingers wrapped around my shoulders as I froze, stiff as a tree trunk, eyes widening and head pounding harder than before.

"Get out your dress, darling," Matthias whispered. "We're going dancing."


	13. Bundle of Messes

**Chapter 13 - A Bundle of Messes**

My breathing hitched in my throat and my fists balled anxiously.

"What do you say Rosie?" he whispered into my ear, his hot breath on the crook of my neck.

"Matthias," I gasped. "I'm not going with you! Just leave me be, alright?"

There was a moment where he paused, like he was actually comtemplating my statement. But, of course, he wasn't. "Wrong answer."

He walked me to the common room like a small child, his arms engulfing me so I couldn't walk away. Matthias was big with large, upper body muscles - there was no way I was getting away from him, unless some sort of miracle happened.

But people like me didn't deserve miracles.

With a shove, he pushed my into the silver and green Slytherin common room, the door shutting behind us silently. I stared around the room, watching as other students looked back with miffed expressions. Georgiana and Veronique were among these people.

Georgiana was wearing the black dress she had bought with me yesterday, along with dark eye make-up and fabulous shoes. Veronique was showing off her purple, one-strapped gown, standing by the side of Merrick Roland.

"Hey Rosalie," she called. "Have you changed your mind?" Her eyes darted between me and Matthias, but didn't seem to find anything wrong with the picture in front of her.

"No," I hissed, but then I felt Matthias' fingers squeeze my forearms with such force, I was sure it was going to leave a bruise. "I mean, yeah. I'm going now. With Matthias."

The words burned on my tongue. I never thought I'd have to say "with" and "Matthias" in the same sentence ever again but I was stupid to think so. But what horrified me was the fact that all of the people in the common room, staring at me, didn't see anything wrong with the fact that Matthias was physically forcing me to go with him. It had to be as obvious to them as it was to me, right? Didn't they see what was happening? Couldn't they see the pain I was in?

"Get your dress, Rosalie," Matthias growled into my ear again.

I shivered and pulled away from him, disgust etched onto my face. "I hate you."

"Of course you do, Rosalie," he said, grinning as he leaned against the wall. "Now go make yourself pretty."

I practically flew up the stairs to my dorm, throwing the door open and then locking it securely behind me, hoping that it would make me feel safer.

Nothing could've made me feel safe, though.

Slumping against the door, I suddenly realized I was shaking. I was being so wimpy; why couldn't I just push him away or defy him? Why did I do everything he told me to? What could he possibly do to me that is so horrible?

"Everything," I whispered, wiping my hands over my face anxiously.

Quietly, I stood and walked over to my closet. Many of my school uniforms were hanging in there, along with some dress robes and the purple dress I wore to Slughorn's first social this year. I hadn't worn it since that night.

Under all of the carefully-placed enchantments hung my only acceptable dress: the Mariona. It looked so beautiful, just hanging there, untouched. I peeled off my clothes, dropping them onto the floor carelessly. The cold, uncomfortable draft in the room brought goosebumps to my arms and legs as I reached for the elegant red dress, lifting it from it's place on the hanger and quickly stepping into it, pulling it up past my hips and over my breasts. I zipped it up carefully and then looked at myself in the mirror.

The gown itself was gorgeous, the prettiest dress I had ever laid eyes on. It still fit perfectly, as it had been fitted for me previously, for the dinner party I had went to in Spain. With it's crimson red color and the silver design on the front, it was astounding. I tried to bring justice to the dress by fixing my hair flawlessly and applying matching red lipstick with dashing eye make-up, but I would never be able to do so. The dress was simply that flabbergasting. I could pull it off, but just barely.

The only jewelry I wore was a silver necklace around my neck. The charm, shaped like a heart, rested directly at the hollow of my throat.

I put on the only pair of heels I had with me - black ones - and took a deep breath. And then another one, for good measure. I had gotten so lost in getting ready, I had forgotten why I was. The entire evening was going to be terrible.

I inhaled another gulp of air greedily, letting it out nervously, and then opened the dorm door. Quickly, I shut it again, eyes wide. A revolting lurch twisted in my stomach as I thought about Matthias, waiting for me downstairs.

A chill cooled me to the bone and I Summoned a shawl from my closet. It was a deep green color, but I used the Colour Change Charm to switch it's shade to a matching red. I wrapped it around my arms and then opened my door once more, this time stepping out into the hall and descending the stairs, biting the inside of my cheek irritably.

"Finally," Matthias drawled. "I was afraid you had gotten lost or something."

I didn't say anything in return. The common room was almost empty now, except for a few stragglers who weren't paying any attention at all to our exchange. It was eerily quiet in the large room, except for the crackling fire, raging in the hearth.

"So," he whispered, his hands lingering on my bare shoulders. "You ready, Rosie?"

Losing my voice, all I could choke out was, "Yeah."

The silence broke as two figures bounded down the stairs in their dress robes, hair ruffled and eyes wide. "Scorpius, this is exactly the thing Rose hates in a guy: tardiness! If we're not there in two minutes flat, she's going to go without you!"

"I know, Al!" the other boy growled.

"Merlin, and Sadie! What's she going to think? Oh, fu- Rosalie?"

They finally seemed to notice Matthias and I. Matthias' eyes narrowed dangerously as Albus slowly approached. "What do you want, filth?"

Albus, still a stubborn-headed git, opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him. Had he forgotten that Matthias broke his nose just a while ago?

"What do you want?" I snapped.

His eyebrows shot up at my harsh tone. I tried to tell him to scat by looking pointedly at the door, but he didn't catch on. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

Scorpius watched with suddenly grave, icy grey eyes.

An arm snaked around my waist. "What does it look like? She's going to the party with me, Potter," Matthias started. "Are you stupid?"

"So, the rumors are true?" Albus questioned.

"Obviously," I said, sounding braver than I felt. The last thing I wanted was for Albus to get hurt for me. Again. And I thought the evening couldn't get any worse. "Just back off, Albus, okay?"

He and Scorpius were miffed. Albus just stared at me with those innocent, emerald green eyes, thoroughly confused. "What are you doing?"

"Gods, Albus! Just leave me alone!" My voice was rising. Now, all three of the boys were watching me, wondering what I was going to do next. The only difference between them was that Matthias was wearing a small grin. He probably knew what I was doing by now.

"Why are you acting like this?" he asked, voice getting darker. "Rosalie-"

"Albus, you don't know anything! You need to leave now, freak."

"You know what? Fine. Be a bitch. I can't believe I cared about what happened to you," Albus said, face contorting angrily. The sudden change of emotion startled me, but only for a second.

"Finally," I said, rolling my eyes, trying seem nonchalant.

"You're unbelievable," he said, storming out of the common room with Scorpius hot on his tail.

My chest was heaving. My heart was beating rapidly. My nails were clawing into my palms. Why couldn't he understand how dangerous Matthias could be? Was I the only one who saw it?

And the feeling of utter hurt lingered in the pit of my stomach. For the first time ever, I cared about someone.

I cared about Albus Potter. And I cared about whether or not he was safe.

"Aw, you care about them, don't you Rosalie?" he said with a childish tone laced in his voice. "Don't want your friends to get hurt by the big, bad Matthias? And here I was, thinking you had no heart."

"I do have a heart!" I screamed, and then I screwed my eyes shut. "And I'm not a bitch."

"Please," he scoffed, staring at me with those blue eyes. "We both know you're the queen bitch. Everybody knows it. Everybody's terrified of you, Rosalie. Let's face it: you have a heart of ice. You're not capable of caring."

I felt like he was circling me like a vulture circles it's prey. "No I don't. I do not."

"You're just like me," he whispered into my ear.

"I am nothing like you."

But then I realized that I was exactly like Matthias Avery. I was a mean, intimidating bully who threatened her so-called friends and hated everybody. I deserved to be despised by someone like Albus Potter.

Maybe this was for the best.

I got this weird feeling in my throat, like a burning knot. I reached up to my eyes, and my fingers touched drops of tears, rimming my eyelids. Quickly, I wiped them away. "Let's just go. I don't want to be alone with you any longer."

* * *

><p>"What crawled up your ass and died?"<p>

James watched his brother, Albus, prowl into the decorated room, a look of disgust on his face. "I can't believe I cared."

"Cared about what?" James inquired.

"Not what," Rose said, walking next to Scorpius. "Who."

"What do you mean?"

"It's Rosalie, man," Scorpius answered. "We've just had enough of her."

James laughed. "Haven't we all? What she'd do this time?"

"She practically spit in my face," Albus growled. "I mean, I was just checking to see if she was alright. Doesn't she remember that time I got a broken nose for her? It's like nothing matters to her! She doesn't care!"

The older Potter boy leaned in, closer to Albus. "What'd she do?" he repeated.

"She totally dissed me! She was in the Slytherin common room with that git of a bloke Matthias and-"

"She was with_ Matthias_?" James asked, astonished.

"That's what I said," Albus retorted.

"Is she alright?"

"I wouldn't know," Albus responded, eyes blazing. "Before I could ask, she basically kicked me out of her fucking way. Guess I'm not good enough to be in her special fucking presence."

James had never heard Albus curse so much in his life. Rosalie was obviously grating on his nerves as much as she was on James' nerves. So, really, only one question remained standing: why?

"Why?" Sadie Wood asked James, voicing his thought. "You two are suddenly BFFs?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "But I thought Rosalie liked you, Albus." He tried not to appear like he cared too much, but it was hard. Something didn't seem right about the situation.

"Me too. I guess there's just no such thing as being on her good side."

"Speak of the devil," Rose muttered.

Matthias and Rosalie walked in to the room together, stirring up a riot in the crowd of students. He held her possessively around the waist, whispering something in her ear. On the outside, they did seem like a perfectly great couple; the hot, popular hunk and the wealthy, beautiful Quidditch captain. They seemed to fit together perfectly.

Except James knew better.

The way Matthias' hands were planted on Rosalie, or the way her eyes screamed out to the people surrounding her... something was off. It wasn't right.

"I'll be right back," James breathed, standing.

"You're fucking me, right?" Rose called. "You're going over to her, aren't you?"

But James was already gone.

"Great," Albus said sarcastically, throwing his hands into the air. "It's funny, how one girl can cause so much drama for us. They were rivals, we were friends, suddenly they're BFFs and she's basically bearing her fangs at me!"

"Why. Do. You. Care?" Sadie trilled, staring after James. "Rosalie Flint is a cold-hearted bitch. She doesn't care about you, obviously!"

"Because she's so much more complicated than that. Can't you see it?"

* * *

><p>So many people around me were having fun. They were laughing, dancing, and having the times of their lives.<p>

And I was stuck with an abusive, controlling freak, glued to his side like his fucking pet.

A grimace was permanently etched onto my face. Despite my unhappiness, nobody had seemed to notice.

"Rosalie!"

No! No, not him. Please, Merlin, not him!

Matthias' eyes started blazing as we both turned to face James Potter, standing behind us, a stupid grin on his face.

"Hey guys! So, Rosalie, you decided to come to the party after all! That's great," he said happily, appearing to be oblivious to the situation. But the way his brown eyes watched me, the way they twinkled; I knew that James Potter had noticed my unhappiness. My distress.

Why _him_?

"Yeah," I muttered, looking away from him.

Matthias' arm gripped around me tighter, to the point where I felt actual pain. "Fuck off, Potter," he growled. "We've had enough trouble with your brother."

"Albus? Why, what happened?" he asked innocently, like he wasn't aware.

"It doesn't matter. The fucking twit won't be bothering us for the rest of the night," Matthias returned, a grin forming on his lips.

Potter's grin flopped. "Don't talk about my brother like that."

"Make me," Matthias retorted.

I watched the scene in front of me with horror. There were so many outcomes, so many endings to the situation in front of me. I couldn't let the bad ones happen. "Potter," I snarled. "Just leave us alone. Gods, you are just like your brother."

"What are you doing with this chump?"

"I'm right here!" Matthias snipped.

Potter ignored him. He stared at me, eyes flashing. "Rosalie, stop it."

"Stop what?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

What was he getting at? Could he see through the act? Could James Potter II, my rival for six years and object of my hatred forever, have seen through my walls? No, impossible. I wasn't going to let him see through them. I had to try harder. He couldn't get hurt for me. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a good guy and didn't deserve it. Neither did his brother, Albus.

But I did.

"I don't know what you're getting at, freak, but you better leave us alone, okay? Just bugger off," I wretched, turning my nose up at him like a snob.

He nodded. "For now. But we have all night, Rosalie." And he walked away, leaving me with a raging Matthias.

I was starting to feel it. I was starting to feel the weight of everything on my shoulders. It forced me to realize how... wrong I was. How wrong I am. It was so confusing and so hard to understand. I didn't get all of it. But it was there.

"What a joke," Matthias said darkly. "Him and his brother. They think that they're all that. They think they can be heroes, like their dad."

Not giving him a response to his statement, I simply said, "I want a drink."

He dragged me over to the punch table, forcing a cup into my hand. Professor Slughorn found his way over to us, his huge belly protruding over his suspenders greatly.

"Miss Flint," he panted, like it had been a terrible effort just to walk through the crowd of loud students. "Mr. Avery. What a pleasure. I'm so glad you two could make it."

Nodding politely, I let Matthias answer him. "This is a wonderful party, Professor Slughorn. You always put it together so well."

"Thank you, my boy!" he roared gleefully. "Yes, sometimes a good party is all we need."

They continued to converse while I played with my fingers. Soon, he was bustling over to another group of his potions students, leaving me with Matthias once more.

"Having fun yet?" Matthias drawled, looking down at me.

I shook my head, glaring spitefully at him. "Of course I'm not. I don't like being coerced into attending a party with a guy who's abusive."

"Done with your little rant yet?" he bantered. "Good. Now, let's dance like a proper couple." His hand enveloped mine as he tugged me towards the cluster of teenagers dancing to a classic by The Weird Sisters.

"We'll never be a proper couple," I hissed.

Minutes later, someone interrupted my awkward dancing by tapping my shoulder. Hesitantly, I turned around to see Molly Weasley, a face I hadn't expected to see. Her curly, red and short hair framed her delicate face and she wore a pretty orange dress.

"Yes?" I asked quickly.

"Professor McGonagall has asked to see you in her office."

My mouth gaped for a second as I processed the statement. "What? Why?"

Molly shrugged. "I don't know." She was wringing her hands nervously.

I started to leave the dance floor with Matthias hunched behind me., when she called out, "Alone! She doesn't want anyone to assist you."

Glancing at the irate but convincingly collected Matthias behind me, I muttered, "Thank you," to Molly and said to him, "I'll be back soon."

He gripped my shoulders tightly and I winced. "If you don't return," he threatened hastily, "There will be consequences."

I hurried out of Slughorn's office in the dungeons, my red dress trailing behind me. I swiftly scooped up the skirt, careful not to let it get ruined by the rough flooring of the halls. My eyes looked around to see if there was anyone in the halls, too, but I didn't see anyone, so I started for McGonagall's office.

Only to be slammed into the wall as soon as I turned the corner. It wasn't painful, but it was still a desperate assault.

I almost shouted in alarm, but a hand covered my mouth. Suddenly, I realized who it was.

It was James Potter. Staring at me meaningfully with large, brown eyes.

"What. The. Fuck."

He didn't smile or laugh smugly like he always did. Instead, he gripped my shoulders in the exact spot Matthias had, only moments ago. Except, he was more gentle. It was more of a caring caress instead of a threatening, abusive grasp.

"What do you want, Potter?" I asked, trying to sound angry but sincerely confused. "Why did you feel the need to attack me in the halls?"

"I'm not attacking you," he stated, defending himself. "And I'm not asking you this, Rosalie. Right now, I'm going to tell you to do something, and you're going to do it. I don't care if I have to carry you to McGonagall's office."

"What do you need _me_ to do?" I asked incredulously, shocked that he was coming to me for something. Me, Rosalie Flint, of all people!

"You're need to tell McGonagall about Avery."

Oh.

_Oh_.

"Are you insane?" I said, trying to grasp his motive.

"I could ask you the same question. Do you like being tortured Rosalie? Let's not pretend that Matthias didn't try to rape you, a couple months back. Because he did try, Rosalie. He could seriously hurt you. Don't you get it? One day, he's going to try again but this time, nobody's going to be casually walking by and save you."

His face was too close to mine. It was inches away from mine, so close I could smell the punch he had just sipped and the brand of shampoo he showered with. My chest was heaving as I stared into his eyes, not daring to break the eye contact. I tried to dig... I tried to dig deep into him and I tried to understand.

"Why do you care?" I whispered.

"Because it's not right," he told me truthfully.

"Nobody cares about me," I continued.

"Albus does," he answered.

"What about you?" I wondered, still watching him.

His jaw clenched and his Adam's Apple bobbed as he searched for an answer, not necessarily uncomfortable with the spotlight being on him, just searching for the right words. "In some weird twisted way, yeah. I guess so."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," I breathed.

He looked taken aback. Then, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Tell McGonagall."

I bit the inside of my cheek - it was starting to leave a mark, because I had been biting it so frequently. I took a deep breath, heaving, as I finally tore my eyes from his and glared past his face to the wall across the hall. "No," I said decidedly. "I can't do that. He'll hurt me if I do."

He rolled his eyes. "Rosalie, if he's expelled, how can he hurt you?"

"Because he can," I hissed in frustration. "You don't know how much influence he has over my family and my life. He could destroy everything I've worked at for all of my life."

"Then let him."

I stared at him once again, totally and utterly surprised. "What?"

"Take a look around, Rosalie," he said. "You haven't been exactly living the perfect life. Start over."

Nobody will ever know how tempting that sounded. How strange it felt to see, in the distance, a shining glimmer of hope.

"James, I don't know," I exhaled.

"I know you want it," he said. "To start over."

"How could you possibly know that?" I asked him.

"Because," he said, finally backing away from me. A smile spread over his face. A real, sincere smile. "That's the first time you've ever addressed me by my first name."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: What do you think? Yeah, I know it's a little weird and it's probably really confusing. I don't know about you, though, but I had a great time writing it. It was challenging, but I really hope you like it. Review and tell me if you think it's really out-of-character for James and/or Rosalie. Thanks!**


	14. Family Dearest

**Chapter 14 - Family Dearest**

"You put Molly up to that, didn't you?" I quipped.

"What do you mean?" he asked me.

"McGonagall didn't really call me to her office, did she? You were just hoping I'd end up there," I reasoned.

"So, are you going to go to her, or do I have to carry you?" he wondered, trying to wiggle his eyebrows at me in hopes of decreasing the awkward tension building up around us.

I wanted to laugh, but the severity of the situation was hurting my head. "I can't. Not now, not today. James, I will do it. I'll tell McGonagall everything. But not now. When I get back from Christmas holiday, alright?"

His eyes blazed. "So that's it? You're just going to let him batter you around for the rest of the year? A lot can happen in that time, Rosalie."

"I know!" I shouted.

His eyes widened in alarm at the rising of my voice.

"Believe me, Potter. I know better than anyone else, including you! I know what can happen in only a short amount of time, but I'm not going back to that hell I call 'home', directly after I turn in Matthias for sexual assault. My parents would chew me up and tear me apart." I cast my eyes away from him. "I can't let that happen."

"You're being a coward," he said poisonously. "Grow a spine and stick up for yourself."

"You'll never get it!" I told him. "You''ll never understand."

"No, no. I understand it perfectly," he spat. The moment we had shared, only moments ago, had dissolved. Now, he was angry with me. Irate. Frustrated. Just like everybody else. "You're afraid, Rosalie. And you always will be, until you do something about it."

And he stormed away, leaving me alone in the dark hallway, clasping my red gown shamefully. Everything I did ended on a bad note. Was I really that terrible to everyone?

* * *

><p>I pushed the white door open gently, cautiously, peering behind it into the room I had once called my bedroom.<p>

The room didn't hold the comfort and warmth I found in my Hogwarts dormitory, despite the endless riches surrounding me and the always-burning fireplace by the windows on the other side.

It was a large room, completed with luxurious carpets, blankets, and curtains. My book shelf stood out, extremely large, every nook and cranny stuffed with book after book and tons of small figurines I had collected over the years. The walls were painted a faded green shade, and the bed spread covering my mattress was a deep, emerald green. But, unlike all of the previous years I had come home from school, I could only relate the blanket to one thing:

It was the same color as Albus Potter's eyes.

My heart clenched as I fell onto my bed, everything from the past four months collapsing around me. I felt absolutely drained, as if I was incapable of ever moving again. Every drop of energy was burned, like I had been squeezed and squished until every ounce had been beaten out of me.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a swift knock on my door echoed through out my room.

I shuffled over to the door, to reveal one of our house elves, Lish, peeking at me with wide eyes. "Miss Flint, Mistress Flint has asked me to inform you that dinner will be ready in half an hour," she squeaked.

Nodding, I told her, "Thank you Lish."

She disappeared after that dismissal, shutting the door with a creak or two, large ears disappearing behind the frame.

Dinner with Mother and Father was expected to be treated as very important. It was usually lavish, with imported foods and fancy dresses and brilliant candles. With a slight frown, I walked over to my closet where elegant gowns hung and endless rows of shoes lined up. Because everything currently in my life was material; not one shred of love or passion.

Was I really living?

I reached up and pulled out a silver dress, placing it over the head of an arm chair in my room with small interest in it at all. I slipped out of my current clothes and pulled my bathrobe over my chilled, bare figure, tying it around my waist tightly. I sat down in front of my mirror and vanity table, staring at the girl in the mirror with curious, hazel eyes.

She looked tired and exhausted, as if she were holding the world on her back like Atlas. She looked like she suffered endless, sleepless nights. There was a bruise underneath the hollow of her throat, resembling the imprint of a thumb. On the crook between her neck and her shoulder returned the dreaded bite mark - the mark of Matthias.

Hands flying everywhere, I quickly covered my face with make-up as the clock's hands ticked dangerously close to 7:00. By supper time, I was ready and already descending the staircase.

"Rosalie. Welcome home," Mother said briskly from her seat at the dining room table. The room was dimly lit, the scent of burning candles filling the room with sweet aromas, mixed with the smell of delicious food.

"Hello, Mother," I said politely, taking my proper seat beside Mariette. Her light hair was curled and draped over her shoulders. Father was sitting at the head of the table, with Marcus to his right and Mother at the other end of the table. Mariette was in between me and Father. This is what all of our dinners looked like.

"How was the train ride?" Father inquired, looking at Mariette and then me.

"It was fine," Mariette told him. "Not one problem."

"That's nice to hear," he said.

A couple of house elves placed dinner on the table, filing in and out of the kitchen dutifully.

"How have your Prefect duties come along?" he asked me, dark eyes watching.

"Perfectly fine," I said to him.

"Wonderful," he concluded, digging into his food.

"How about your Quidditch team?" Marcus said, speaking to me for the first time that night.

I smiled at him. "It's been great! We're neck and neck with Gryffindor, but I know we can take them. Though they haven't been working as hard as my team, they are respectable opponents-"

"Don't brag, Rosalie, it's not an attractive quality," Mother interrupted.

Swallowing my swelling pride, I nodded. "Of course, Mother."

Dinner continued in silence. We talked about small things, like school activities, friends, Marcus' job promotion and Mother's sickly aunt Belinda. Our conversations were quiet, if not totally awkward. I felt uncomfortable, confined to a room with just my family. My head was starting to hurt again and my palms started sweating.

"So, Rosalie," Mother began, not looking up from her supper. "How is Matthias?"

I gripped my fork as I said tightly, "He's fine."

"What a handsome bloke he is," Mother continued. "He's so polite. You two really are a great match."

I wanted to scoff at her statement, to label it ridiculous, to shout at how she knew nothing. But, of course, I didn't. I bit my tongue and only nodded again, praying to the gods Mariette wouldn't say anything about the rumors around school.

Mariette, though, probably didn't want to get caught in the middle of my dangerous affairs, so she didn't utter a word. Finally, after staring at my dessert for the longest time, I excused myself from the table. The house elves started to take my empty dishes as I hobbled, tiredly, up the grand stair case and back to my bedroom, where I confined myself for the rest of the night.

I slipped out of the dreaded and scratchy silver dress, hanging it back up in my neat closet. My feet hurt terribly, but I felt a great relief as I slid my feet out of the painful shoes I had worn to dinner with my family. It was strange, dressing up so impressively, just for my own flesh and blood. What did I need to prove to them, anyway?

I decided to take a shower, stripping out of my under garments and strutting into the bathroom, turning the shower knob and smiling as the head began shooting water.

After the comforting, hot shower, I climbed into the lush bed, burying myself in the thick, warm blankets. In my hand was a thick, old copy of_ Digging Into Greek Mythology_, my guilty pleasure book. I didn't know what was so fascinating to me about Grecian arts and culture, but it had always remained a beloved topic to me.

The rest of Christmas holiday would probably remain uneventful, like this very evening, except for maybe a party or two, and Christmas dinner. Father and Mother still had to work, but it wasn't like I cared. I would probably spend the rest of my time in my room, reading or playing around with my cello, and other singular activities-

There was a startling scratching sound on my windows and I shot up, reaching for my wand on my dresser, but realizing it wasn't there but possibly still in my uniform pocket.

"Blast!" I hissed in the dark.

It took my long enough to process that the scratching noise was actually an owl, perched on a tree by my window, waiting for me. I reached for the letter in it's talons and squinted, trying to recognize the hand writing.

When I had no luck, I swiftly ripped open the envelope and began reading.

_Dear Rosalie,_

_If you haven't figured it out already, it's me. Albus._

My eyes widened. Why would Albus Potter write to me? At this late at night? I turned to look at my clock, and at the same moment, it hit 11:36.

_I wanted to properly apologize to you about calling you a bitch. It was rash of me to do so, impolite, and totally out of place. I regretted it as soon as I realized it had come out of my mouth, but I was too proud to take it back. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to actually apologize._

_I hope your winter holiday is going well._

_Yours, Albus Severus Potter_

I stared at the letter dumbfounded, my mind boggled. Nobody had ever sincerely apologized to me about something.

Almost instantly, I jumped up, wanting to reply to his letter as soon as possible, but I was startled by a noise coming from the hall outside of my door. Our house was very large, so I was probably the only one who heard it, which frightened me even more. It had been an unnatural thump, so I struggled between just letting it slip or going out to investigate.

Deciding on the latter, I shuffled over to my bedroom door and peeked out, before opening the door all of the way. The hallway was dark and eerily silent, and at first I thought I had just imagined the noise. But then, I heard a whispered laugh from the foyer downstairs and some sort of ruffling. Clenching my jaw, I tiptoed down the stairs. I shivered when my bare feet touched the icy tiles of the foyer.

The noises continued to leak from the dimly lit sitting room, connected to our foyer. I hid behind the wall, my back pressed against the chilling surface. I continued to listen.

"Shh, be quiet! We're going to get caught," one voice said in a hushed tone. I immediately recognized the owner.

"Come on, Mariette," said the other. "We're not going to get caught. We've sneaked out plenty of times before. Nobody can hear us."

"I know, I know," my sister whispered. Her voice was different; she didn't speak to the stranger like she spoke to me. She was gentle, considerate, and kind.

There was a giggle. "Then what's the problem?"

"I'm just scared."

"Well, don't be."

Then was a scuffling sound, like the two were embracing now.

"Don't be scared."

And lastly, a sound I didn't want to hear.

Swiftly, I walked out from the shadows, appearing in front of the two. But all I could see was Mariette's blond hair as she faced the other person and kissed her on the lips.

"Um, I'd hate to break up the love fest, but can I ask what's going on here?"

Mariette wore an expression of surprise, shock, and then finally something that resembled fear. Beside her stood someone I hadn't expected to ever see in our household.

Sophie Golding. A well-known Muggle-born at Hogwarts. She was a seventh year, like Mariette, only she was in Hufflepuff.

"Rosalie? What are you doing up so late?" Mariette whispered, eyes wide.

"So, you're the famous Rosalie Flint, huh?" Sophie Golding asked, blue eyes watching me with a certain twinkle. She flipped her short, brown hair over her shoulder and smiled. "I'm Sophie Golding."

"You know who I am," I hissed. "And I know who you are. And like I said before, What the hell is going on here?"


	15. Flare

**A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this story! A special thanks to _Jenn_; your reviews make my day! **

**PS: I just want to let you guys know that somehow, I got mixed up with the chapter numbers and that this is actually the 14th chapter, but since I've been on this track for a while, I'm just going to keep it like this :)**

**Chapter 15**

When I was growing up, I wasn't even allowed to look at Muggle-borns. Father addressed them as Mudbloods, and I spent my entire childhood believing that they were evil and shouldn't even exist. We were superior to them.

Homosexuality was frowned upon in society. Men were meant to be with women, and that was final.

Everything about Mariette and Sophie's relationship screamed wrong to me. I tried to understand what she was getting at, but I just couldn't wrap my head around it. But there was one thing I did understand, and that was the fact that Mariette was brave. And growing up in an insanely warped world didn't stop her from pursuing what she wanted.

"So, how long has this been going on?" I asked, looking at Mariette, and then to Sophie, and then back to my sister.

"Since sixth year," she replied honestly.

I nodded and crossed my legs anxiously. I was suddenly very uncomfortable with the situation unfolding in front of me. "Okay." I paused, staring back at the two in front of me, and then admitted, "I really don't know what to do."

"Please, don't tell Mother and Father," Mariette begged.

"I'm not that low," I snapped. "I just don't know how to react. I don't know what to feel."

"Be happy for me," she said, glancing at Sophie. "For us."

Standing up, I glared at her. "And when have you ever been happy for me, Mariette?"

Her jaw clenched and her looked down at her hands in her lap. When she didn't respond, I started for the foyer.

"This stays a secret. At least, for now it does. But you'd be a fool if you began to think I would just forget."

* * *

><p>"Here's your book and your change, ma'am. Have a nice day," the elderly lady from behind the counter said, giving me a small smile.<p>

I took the smalls coins into my hand and then grabbed the book. "Thank you."

Exiting Flourish and Blotts with a new book about Potions, I walked on to the crooked, cobblestone road and maneuvered around the crowds of people, shopping for Christmas gifts. My cheeks and nose were flushed from the icy weather outside, and the tips of my fingers were starting to numb. I gripped my coat, pulling it closer to my body in an effort to keep in the warmth I had earned in the tiny bookshop.

It was December 23, the day everyone did their last-minute Christmas shopping. That wasn't why I was there, but it was the reason that a vast majority of the shoppers were flailing around wildly, jumping from store to store, searching for bargains and sales.

I made my way over to The Leaky Cauldron, throwing the door open and stomping the snow off of my boots, like many had done before me. There was a build-up of brown slush by the entrance.

A fire cackled in the fireplace across the room, warming the whole room. It smelled like musk and alcohol in the Leaky Cauldron, but I had grown accustomed to the scent. As I walked over to the table by the groggy window, I passed a pair of witches talking about their children and two boys I recognized from Hogwarts, probably Gryffindors, playing with a new product from Zonko's. I sat at a shabby, wooden table, taking off my coat and placing my new book on the surface.

Ms Jemima Applebatton, a waitress at the Leaky Cauldron, made her way over to me, a smile on her face as she said, "'Ello, Miss Flint. How are ye doin' today?"

"I'm good, Jemima," I replied briskly. "How is your Christmas season faring?"

She rolled her squinty brown eyes. "Well, it's been busy, Miss, but nothin' I don't mind. Yolanda be bringing her new boyfriend to our Christmas dinner tomorrow night, so I'm preparin' me self for that."

"That's nice," I said sincerely. "Good for her."

"What can I get for you today?" she asked, whipping out her little pad and pen.

"Can I get a bowl of House Leaky Soup and a mug of black coffee?" I asked, looking up at the flustered woman.

She scribbled my order down hastily. "Of course, Miss. I'll be right aroun' with it."

"Thanks," I said as she hurried away. I made myself comfortable, opening my book contently and settling into my chair. I caught sight of several people that I knew, walking through the Leaky Cauldron and to the entrance of Diagon Alley. This group included Rachelle Davies and her mother, Jonathon Thomas with a friend I didn't recognize, and Louis Weasley with his sister Dominique. None of them saw me in the corner of the tiny pub.

Jemima swiftly brought me my coffee and soup, which I thanked her for gratefully. On a cold day, the Leaky Cauldron's soup was the best thing for a chilled soul.

I dug into my new Potions book, while eating the hot soup. My mind entered a whole new reality that centered around cauldrons, elixirs, and Potioneers, an exciting world I had always found interest in. I was engulfed in the book, that I didn't notice someone sneaking up behind me.

As I turned a page carefully, I heard someone speak. "Potions during Christmas break? You are mad."

I jumped back, recognizing the voice immediately. I dropped my soup spoon, letting it clatter on the table disruptively. "Potter!"

He grinned cheekily as he sat at the old table, across from me. I glared at him as he made himself at home. "So, Flint. What's up?"

Cocking an eyebrow, I replied hotly, "Nothing. Until you and your big nose showed up."

"I missed you too, Rosie."

"Don't call me that!" I flared. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well," he began, brown eyes fixed on me. "I was going to visit my dear Uncle George and his wonderful joke shop, but then I stumbled upon you and decided I should like to make trouble."

I rolled my eyes. "You are such a drama queen."

"Drama king," he corrected.

"No, I got it right the first time."

He watched me for a moment, before asking," What about you, you little lurker. What are you doing here all by yourself, tucked away in this dirty corner with a Potions book?"

I shrugged. "I was enjoying myself, actually."

"You're such a creep," he decided.

"Thanks."

We studied each other for a moment. I took another bite of my soup and then a sip of my coffee, which had cooled down considerably. Jemima bustled back over to my table, looking at James Potter curiously.

"'Ello, Mr. Potter. What can I do for ye?"

"He was just leaving," I interrupted pointedly.

"I think I'll stay a while," he said, smiling at me. "Can I have some tea, please? With cream and sugar."

"Of course, Mister," she said politely, walking off with another order.

"You little git," I muttered. "Don't you have any where better to be?"

He shook his head, messy brown hair shaking with it. He fixed his glasses thoughtfully. He didn't usually wear his glasses, I noticed, only when he had to or when he was feeling particularly lazy. "Nope. I'm meeting my family for dinner around 6. Until then, I'm totally and utterly free."

"Yippee," I said, my tone of voice lacking any enthusiasm.

"How about you? Got any big plans for today?"

"No. Even if I did, though, they wouldn't involve you," I snapped.

"Fair enough," he said calmly, still wearing that grin.

Silence ensued, until Jemima brought him his tea. He thanked her for it, shooting her a gracious smile, before she hurried over to another table.

I finished the last of my soup. "This is lovely and all, but I'm going to get going-"

"Hey James!" one of the Gryffindor boys yelled from the center of the room.

"Byron!" he greeted, apparently not entirely psyched to see them. I finally recognized who they were: Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson, two seventh year Gryffindors. Byron was tall and very muscular, with cropped brown hair and Gavin had tousled blond hair. He wasn't nearly as big as Byron, but he was definitely strong-looking.

"What are you doing over there? On a date, are you?" he continued.

Potter shook his head. "Uh, no-"

They made their way over to my table and, when they recognized me, sneered right in my face. "What are you doing with this scum?"

"Excuse me?" I growled.

"You heard me. What are you goin' to do about it, shortie?" he laughed, Gavin chortling behind him.

"I may be small but I can fucking _kick your ass_!" I hissed loudly, standing up and reaching my full height. I was, indeed, much shorter than him and obviously not as big. In fact, it was quite a pitiful comparison. Why was I doing this again?

Potter watched uselessly as a messy scene unfolded in front of everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"You want to go there, Flint?" he spat.

"Bring it on, Adams!" I shouted. Nobody insulted me, and I would fight until I was bloody and bruised to a pulp.

When he shoved my shoulders, knocking me back a step, Jemima stepped in between the two of us, scolding him. "Mr. Adams! We do not tolerate fightin' in the Leaky Cauldron, and we certainly will not accept bigger, stronger, older lads beatin' up ladies, even if they be provokin' them!"

Byron looked away from me, muttering a, "Yes, of course," and then a louder, "You better watch your back, Flint!" He and Gavin stalked out of the shabby pub.

"Stupid bastards," Jemima cursed. "Didn' even pay for their meals."

My temper stopped flaming, and I calmed down quickly. "I'm so sorry, Jemima. Here, I'll pay for their soup. It's my fault."

She accepted my proposal, and I paid for their soup, my soup, and my coffee. After she left, I turned around to grab my stuff, not even looking at Potter.

"Fat lot of help you were, Potter," I snapped venomously.

"What was I supposed to do?" he defended. "You made them angry!"

"They called me scum! You would've done the same thing," I told him irately. I started towards the back of the pub, trying to make my way back to Diagon Alley.

"Rosalie, wait-"

"Just stop!" I swerved around, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You know what, Potter? I get it. I know. You just didn't want to be seen with me by other Gryffindors. You were embarrassed. And you certainly didn't want to defend me in front of them."

He looked down at me with his brown eyes, no longer twinkling behind his glass lenses. He didn't say anything, because it was true.

Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't I understand it? Before entering my sixth year at Hogwarts, I could understand everything. So why was this different? Why was I being kept in the dark?

"I've gotta go," I lied, and left without letting him say another word.

* * *

><p>What was I doing here?<p>

Oh right. I was hiding from Matthias.

I had always been irked by Knockturn Alley, even though Father had insisted I forget every bad tale I'd heard about it. It was dark, damp, and the popular place to shop for object of the Dark Arts. But with a blind turn here and there, I had ended up closer to the dreaded alley than I had intended, and when I had spotted Matthias, the only place I could've taken quick refuge in was, well, you guessed it.

My feet slapped against the mismatched road as I passed the obscure and skeptical stores, wary of all of my surroundings. My heart was beating in my chest rapidly as I scuffled down the street in the shadows. Many odd faces caught my eye, and many strange persons watched me.

"Where are you heading, my love?" an old woman in a patched-up cloak croaked, beady black eyes staring at me.

"No where in particular, ma'am," I muttered, shirking away from her as quickly as possible.

"Lost, girl?" a large, bearded man shouted boisterously, obviously drunk. "I can help you!"

"No, thanks. I don't need any help."

Gods, I was freaked out. I felt trapped and cornered by all of the strangers in Knockturn Alley. I tried to keep my head held high and stay away from anything that appeared suspicious.

It wasn't long before I reached an empty, dingy place. I was cut off from the main alley way, and I had somehow managed to end up utterly lost, on an abandoned side road. All of the stores were boarded off, out of business and housing many rodents and stray cats. Fliers and pieces of the Daily Prophet floated aimlessly around, dating back to a couple of months ago, even years back.

Warily, I continued down the road, hoping I would come out at a main road or something. But, ten minutes later as I kept searching, I heard a shout. Not just any shout, but the yelp of a young girl.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, fiesty.

I couldn't pin point the location, though, so I perked my ears up and tried to find out what was going on, and where.

"Watch it, princess," a voice growled. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

"What do you mean, you nitwit?" she retorted.

"You're one of Potter's offspring, no?" he stated.

"Lily Potter?" I whispered, standing in the center of the street, dumbfounded, before my reflexes kicked into action. I started running, without thinking, trying to find her and the stranger who was threatening her. I gripped my wand tightly, eyes scanning my surroundings.

"If you don't leave me alone, I'll scream," she told him bravely. Well, there was a reason she was sorted into Gryffindor.

"Nobody will hear you, little girl. You're all mine. I can finally begin avenging my Lord."

A piercing screech errupted into the air, after a rough voice yelled, "Crucio!"

Heart throbbing, palms sweating, legs shaking, I ran around frantically, searching desperately for Lily Potter. Finally, in a little cut-off, I caught a flash of red. I swiftly spotted her, cringing on the ground as the man attacked her with the Unforgivable Curse. She writhed in utter pain, twisting unnaturally on the ground as she tried in vain to put out the excruciating hurt. The man didn't notice me, an ugly smirk on his face as he tortured Lily.

"Incarcerous!" I said forcefully, watching as ropes ejected from the tip of my wand, tying around the man tightfully and knocking him onto the ground. His face was shocked as I approached him, my lips forming a frown as I eyed him cautiously. "Torturing little children with an Unforgivable? I think the Ministry will be very unhappy to hear about this."

"Who the bloody hell are you?" he sneered through cracked lips. His face was covered in smudges of dirt and grim. He wore ragged, dirty clothes and a ripped overcoat. On his balding head was an old cap.

Instead of dignifying his question with a response, I muttered a spell that knocked the man out. His face drooped and he became immobile.

"Lily? Lily?" I ran over to her side. She laid on the ground, her skin a sickly pale and drops of sweat breaking out on her forehead.

"Wha'?" she asked groggily, eyes shut tightly.

"I'm going to get help, Lily," I tried to tell her, but she really wasn't in the mood for listening. I didn't know her. I had never spoken with her, and I had barely glanced at her in the halls of Hogwarts.

I didn't even know where to start.

* * *

><p>"How is she?" I asked the matron at St. Mungo's urgently, trying to peek behind her.<p>

"Miss Flint, try to restrain yourself," she told me sternly. "Miss Potter will be fine, and she is to be released later tomorrow morning. But I'm glad you were smart enough to bring her here."

I nodded. "Right. Okay. Of course."

The doors burst open and a man with worried, piercing green eyes and a lightning bolt etched onto his forehead ran over to the nurse. Behind him trailed a lady who greatly resembled Lily.

"Li- Lily," he panted. "My daughter. Came as fast... fast as I could!"

"Mr. Potter, please calm down," she said tightly. "Try not to disturb the other patients."

"The other patients?" he roared. "This is my daughter we're talking about! What happened?"

"I don't know the full story," she said tiredly. "Ask this young lady - she's the one who brought Lily in."

Both sets of eyes landed on me. For the first time, they noticed my presence. Mr. and Mrs. Potter watched me intently. "Who are you?" Ginny Potter asked me.

"Rosalie Flint, ma'am," I told her quietly.

"Rosalie Flint?" Harry Potter said, startled. "You're Rosalie Flint?"

"What happened?" Ginny continued.

"Well, I was lost in Knockturn Alley," I began. "I was wandering around and I heard a scream, so I decided to investigate. There was a man - a big bloke. He had cornered Lily and said something about "avenging his Lord" or... yeah. He used the Cruciatus Curse on her. So, I tied him up and knocked him out, and then brought Lily here. The Ministry has him in custody now."

"Oh, Gods," Ginny said, hiding her face into Harry's shoulder. Tears were flowing freely and unashamedly down her freckled cheeks. They stained Harry's shirt. He turned and stuck out his hand.

"How can we ever thank you?" Harry asked me graciously. "I can't imagine what would've happened if you hadn't shown up."

"Yeah," I said awkwardly, shaking his hand briskly. "Um, well, I'm done here so I'm just going to go now-"

"Not so fast, Miss Flint. The Ministry would like to ask you a few questions," a woman said, approaching us swiftly. She blond hair was tied into a tight ponytail and she wore loose blue robes with black boots. "Auror Sylvie Dupont. I'm here to escort you to the Ministry."

"That's not necessary," Harry objected. "She saved Lily."

"I'm sorry, Monsieur Potter, but that's not your call," she hissed, a French accent lacing her words. "Come with me, Miss Flint. We will contact your parents when we arrive. I'd like to let you know that you are not in any trouble. We are just trying to sort out everything."

I nodded. I walked with her towards the doors, but not before I caught the eye of a frantic James Potter, who's expression turned to confusion as I walked past him with a slight frown on my face.


	16. Excommunicated Heroine

**A/N: Okay, this chapter was tons of fun to write, mostly because of her interrogation. I have big plans for this story! I enjoy writing drama, haha. Leave a review; tell me what you think! Criticism is always welcomed wholeheartedly. Thank you!**

**Chapter 16**

_The interrogation of Rosalie Flint, main witness_

_Auror Nehemiah Brocknard:_ Hello, Miss Flint. How are you doing this evening?

_Rosalie Flint:_ Considering the circumstances, sir, not very well.

_Brocknard_: Indeed. I'd like to ask you a few questions.

_Flint_: Why? I've already told you guys everything I know.

_Brocknard_: Just standard procedure, ma'am.

_Flint_: Fine. Go ahead.

_Brocknard_: What were you doing before you discovered Lily Potter?

_Flint_: I was lost, somewhere in Knockturn Alley.

_Brocknard_: Why were you wandering around Knockturn Alley in the first place?

_Flint_: Uh... I wasn't shopping, if that's what you're wondering.

_Brocknard_: What were you doing?

_Flint:_ I was actually, erm, hiding.

_Brocknard:_ Hiding? From who?

_Flint_: My boyfriend.

_Brocknard:_ I see. Who is your boyfriend?

_Flint_: He has nothing to do with this, sir.

_Brocknard_: Of course. How did you discover Lily Potter?

_Flint_: I heard her arguing with the offender.

_Brocknard_: What did you do when you heard her and the suspect talking?

_Flint_: They weren't talking sir, and he isn't just a suspect! He's guilty!

_Brocknard_: Answer the question, ma'am!

_Flint_: I ran towards them. It was obvious that he was planning to attack her.

_Brocknard_: And then what did you do?

_Flint_: I found them in a tight alley. He had cornered her and when I found them, he didn't notice me. He was using the Cruciatus Curse on her.

_Brocknard_: How did you react?

_Flint_: I used magic to tie him up and knock him out.

_Brocknard_: Is this the man you saw supposedly torturing Lily Potter?

_Flint_: I'm sure he was torturing her, sir. And you already have the man in custody! Why do you need me to identify him?

_Brocknard_: So this is the man?

_Flint_: Yes.

_Brocknard_: Do you know who he is?

_Flint_: No- wait. I think I've seen his face before.

_Brocknard_: Where?

_Flint_: On a wanted poster or in the Daily Prophet.

_Brocknard_: This is Antonin Dolohov, former Death Eater and one of the most-wanted criminals by the Ministry of Magic.

_Flint_: Yup. I recognize him now.

_Brocknard_: You seem very calm, knowing that you basically beat him in a duel. He did, after all, work for the Dark Lord.

_Flint:_ Um, okay?

_Brocknard:_ Did you converse with him at all?

_Flint_: I told him that torturing little girls wasn't approved by the Ministry. That's all.

_Brocknard:_ What happened after you knocked him out?

_Flint:_ I summoned the Ministry and took Lily Potter to St. Mungo's.

_Brocknard:_ That's all that happened?

_Flint:_ Yes.

_Brocknard_: Very well, Miss Flint. Your parents are waiting for you in the main lobby. You're free to go.

_Flint:_ What are you going to do with Antonin Dolohov?

_Brocknard:_ Why do you care?

_Flint:_ Because, Nehemiah, I don't really fancy having ex-Death Eaters chasing after me or the Potters, especially if he's comfortable with using Unforgivables. You know what? It seems to me that you're trying to pinpoint this crime on me!

_Brocknard:_ Miss Flint, you can go now.

* * *

><p>"So, are you saying you agreed to testify against Dolohov? In court?" Father bellowed furiously.<p>

"Of course I did!" I retorted. "He was using the Cruciatus Curse on Lily Potter, and he's a wanted criminal! He needs to be locked up in Azkaban!"

"You should've consulted with your mother and I first!" he yelled.

"You would've said no," I told him, crossing my arms uncomfortably.

He wiped his hand over his burning face, a scowl etched on his hard features. Mother stood next to him, face still and passive in a silent rage, her eyes watching me with animosity. Mariette was tucked away in the love seat, wrapped in a blanket and Marcus was trying to calm down Father, though his attempts were futile.

"Father-" Marcus started, eyes glancing at me.

"You should have let Antonin Dolohov finish her off," he said coldly.

"What?" I shouted. "Lily Potter did not deserve to die by his filthy hand! I would have never let that happened!"

"Do not talk back! Your foolish acts make this family a target!"

I said, "No; they make me a target! It's not like any of you care anyway!"

"The Potters are notorious blood traitors!" he continued loudly and irately. "You've tainted the family's name!"

"You're just afraid that you'll be ridiculed by your pathetic, pure-blooded maniac friends and are trying to save your sorry asses-"

His hand made a sharp and angry slap against my cheek, his dark eyes glaring at me. Instantly, my cheek began to burn and blood began to trickle from where his rings had collided into my flesh. I brouught my fingers to my face, frown growing deeper and a snarl escaping my lips.

"I'm leaving. I can't stand you dimwitted, insolent fools," I told them miserably. "I'm going to walk out that door and I'm not going to come back for a long time. I'm going to testify against Antonin Dolohov. And you are not going to stop me."

"If you walk out of that door, Rosalie, we will not allow you back in! We will disowned you!" Father barked as I faced the front door.

Clenching my fists, I said slowly, "See if I care."

In only a half an hour, I had packed up my Hogwarts trunk full of clothes, money, and other things and was stranded on the sidewalk, two miles away from my home. I pulled my coat closer to me as wet snow fell in big clumps from the dark, starless sky.

I had no where to go. I couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts without getting expelled and that couldn't happen. I had no real friends to crash with, besides Blake, but he was in Canada, visiting some cousins for the hols.

Taking a seat on the chilly, cement curb, I folded my hands in the lap and stared at the snow. With no where to take refuge, I was left alone for the night.

Twenty minutes passed before any signs of life appeared.

Standing quickly when a large vehicle flared it's headlights, I backed onto the sidewalk, only to stumble when the huge purple bus came to a stop in front of me. A shaggy man wearing a blue uniform and a torn conductor's cap appeared, his eyes scanning a small sheet of paper.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, I will be your conductor for this evening," he droned, boredly looking up from the paper. "What's 'appened to your face?"

"What- oh, that," I muttered, reaching up and touching the swelling bruise and bloody cut. "Nothing."

"Well then, if it's nothing then come on! Get on the bus," he said, beckoning me to board to shady-looking bus. I had a feeling that somewhere along the ride, it was going to break down or we were going to crash from break failure.

"Okay, Stan," I grumbled. "Be a man and get my trunk. I'm tired." I stepped up and onto the bus, looking around at the seemingly unstable beds that held beat-up, elderly wizards with missing toes and teeth. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling of the bus, trembling as the engine of the bus rumbled.

Stan Shunpike finally got my trunk onto the bus. He printed out a ticket for me, waving it expectantly. The bus roared and took off with a stomach-churning jolt. A severed head, hanging from the mirror, started talking nonsense and I took a seat on one of the beds, my cheek hot and my head hurting. I made sure to also pay Stan for my sudden trip to the Leaky Cauldron.

It wasn't the first time I had ridden the Knight Bus. Once, when I was 12, I got lost in a Muggle community with no way of getting home. The bus had come to pick me up and Lish the House-Elf had come and pick me up at the London pub. Father and Mother had been furious with me and Mariette never let me live it down.

The seriousness of the situation fell down on me like a stone boulder. If what Father said was true, I would be disowned certainly by tomorrow. Where would I go, then? I had my vault at Gringotts with my life's savings in it, that would surely hold me up for a while. But it didn't have a lot of money in it, like the family's vault did. Father was smart enough, though, to contact the Gringotts and forbid me from opening their vault. He he did truly disown me, I hoped they would at least have the courtesy to give me a small sum of money.

Was I really going to be disowned?

My heart was heavy as I reminded myself to breathe.

Disowned. Excommunicated. Banished from my own household.

Maybe this was what I needed. Maybe this was my chance at a fresh start, a new beginning, like James said.

I wasn't holding my breath.

* * *

><p>It was nearly 10 o'clock at night when I arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.<p>

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, pub and inn. How may I help you?" squeaked the tiny lady from behind the counter. She was wearing a standard pin-stripped suit and her greasy hair was pulled into a tight bun. Her huge front teeth peeked out from in between her hairy lips.

"I'd like to book a room for the night-," I began, but I was interrupted by a certain Jemima Applebottom.

"Miss Rosalie, baby. What's you be doin' here this late?" she asked.

"Hey, Jemima. I'm just booking a room for the night," I answered sheepishly. The woman from behind the reception desk - her name tag read _Hello, My Name Is Ferga Fungus_ - watched us converse with beady black eyes.

"Why?" she persisted.

I mumbled, looking down at my hands, "I just need a place to crash."

She bustled over to the desk, her graying hair tousled and falling loosely out of her ponytail from a hard day of work. "Hun, is somethin' wrong?"

I honestly wasn't in the mood to chat with her about my problems, so I waved it off. "No, no. I'm just renovating my room. I'm booking the room for me and my mother; she'll be here in an hour or so."

She looked at me warily. "Alright, Miss. But if you need to talk to me or come over to my flat, just give me a ring." She used her wand to sketch the number on to an old receipt.

"Thanks," I said.

Jemima nodded. "Alright, Ferga, I'm heading home for the weekend. Happy Christmas!"

"Right," the ugly lady drawled, then turned back to me. "So, about that room."

"Yeah, I need a room with one bed. That's all."

"You and your mother sleep in the same bed?" she quirked slowly.

"Just give me the damn keys,_ Ferga_."

* * *

><p>The next morning, I woke up in a strange bed. I wasn't in my bedroom, I was inside some dingy, moldy room with cold blankets and stained sheets. This wasn't my house.<p>

And then I remembered the events of yesterday. My world came crashing down around me and my jaw went slack. My head started hurting from the impact of the memories and my lungs began to hurt from the forceful breaths I was taking.

Slipping out of the gray covers, I walked around the room, panicking.

"Oh, Merlin's fucking knickers! I'm going to be disowned!" I whispered to myself under my breath. My heart was beating fiercely. My eyes were clenched intensely. "Merry Christmas to me," I said sarcastically.

Two hours later, I found myself stumbling down Diagon Alley hopelessly, straying away from Gringotts glumly. Not only had my parents banned me from the family vault, but they hadn't been generous enough to add enough money to my account. The transaction had been issued, but not completed. I was abandoned with a small amount of money to live off of. Sixteen and already searching for a place to live.

Bloody fantastic.

Diagon Alley was mainly closed, since it was the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Some shops were still open in hopes of finding a few last minute shoppers, but the employees behind the counters looked utterly miserable, probably wishing they could be at home with their loved ones.

I returned to the Leaky Cauldron, carefully avoiding any human contact. I walked up the creaky stairs to my rented room, locking and bolting the door behind me.

A tapping on the window made me jump, but I threw it open carelessly and an owl flew in. The tawny bird perched itself on my bedpost, holding an elegant envelope with my name clearly scrawled on the front in gold ink. Inside was a green and red card with a handwritten message and a picture.

_Dear Rosalie, _

_We wish you the happiest Christmas, and offer you a most sincere thank you for saving Lily and agreeing to testify against Dolohov in court. We are forever in your debt. _

_Truly, Harry, Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily_

The picture slid into my hand and I stared at the colorful Potters, decked out in Santa hats and elf ears. They smiled at me as the hugged each other and waved at the camera joyfully.

I slumped against the wall, falling onto the ground with a thud. My trembling hand covered my mouth as I stared at the picture, a weird feeling erupting in the pit of my stomach. Nobody had ever sent me a personal Christmas card before. Each name was signed personally. James' signature was his usual, messy handwriting, Albus' a beautiful cursive, and Lily's with a heart over the 'I' instead of dot.

It took a while for me to realize I was crying. Why was I crying? Sobs racked my chest as I stared, confused, at the greeting card with teary hazel eyes.


	17. This Thing Called Jealousy

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to update; I accidentally deleted the chapter. Twice. I suck at using technology. I'm, like, the worst teenager out there XP Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story! You guys make my day (no, literally - I sit in front of the computer smiling like a doofus)!**

**A/N II: Make that three times... -_-**

**Chapter 17**

My heels clicked against the cold tile flooring as I left the court room, gnawing at the inside of my cheek nervously. The screams and yells of a wanted criminal on his way to Azkaban chilled me to the bone, goosebumps rising on my skin. I ripped my hair at of it's formal up-do quickly, letting my dark locks fall on to my shoulders. My hands were shaking and my stomach felt weak as I pushed my way through the thickening crowd.

"Flint!" a familiar voice called and I halted. Why did he always show up at the worst times? His hand reached towards my shoulder, turning me around. "Rosalie," he breathed, looking down at me with those brown eyes.

"What?" I said. It sounded strangled.

"Lily," he said. "She wants to see you. And Mum and Dad, they want to meet your parents."

I swallowed uncomfortably. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" he asked, confused.

"I just need to go."

"No, don't. Where are your mum and dad?"

I wringed my hands tightly, looking down at the floor. "They're not here."

"They let you come alone?" he asked incredulously.

"'Let' would be an overstatement," I said, laughing without humor.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean, Rosalie?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you," I snapped. "I want to go."

"What happened?" he pestered, even as I turned to walk away. "Please. I want to help."

Pausing, my breathing hitched in my throat. I faced him once again, knees wobbling. "I don't want your help, Potter. 'Sides, you can't help me anyways."

"They didn't... I mean, they wouldn't..." he started, realization beginning to dawn on his face. He was searching for an answer as he watched me, focus not swaying as took a step closer to me. Now, instead of feeling animosity towards him, burning hatred and unforgiving bitterness, a hunt for comfort took their places. I wanted to reach out, but I wanted to close up. I physically and emotionally hurt.

I let him approach me as he asked, "Did they disown you? For what you did for my little sister?"

Tears were threatening to make an escape. I would not be seen crying in front of groups of people, and especially not in front of James Potter. Yet, despite my resistance, one slipped and trickled down my cheek. Hurriedly, I wiped it away.

"I want to go," I repeated urgently.

"Rosalie-"

"Just leave me alone," I told him.

"Why won't you let me help you?" he questioned, peering at me, distraught.

"Because I don't want your help!" I huffed.

He ran a hand through his hair. People were starting to stare at us as our conversation grew deeper and deeper. I stared at him with reproachful eyes as he searched for something to say. The James Potter, rendered speechless? Preposterous! But as I studied, I noticed his sincere struggles and it hurt to watch him. I used to hate him, seethe whenever I saw him; why was he trying to help me?

Why didn't anything make any sense anymore? Gods, I wanted to tear my hair out! I was supposed to be smart and clever, but for the life of me I couldn't figure this out.

"Where are you even staying?" he cut in.

"Why? Are you going to write me?"

"Come stay at my house," he offered, unfazed by my smart comment. "My parents will be fine with it!"

"No!" I refused, taking a step away from him. My chest was heaving frantically. I was starting to feel trapped and cornered. I felt like the air was running out of oxygen. "I don't want your help."

"You can't keep doing this!"

I retorted, "Doing what?"

"Hiding! Retreating, whatever you want to call it. Why are you so closed up?" he asked.

Mumbling, I said, "I don't know." The conversation was making me feel uncomfortable, so I turned around once more and started to walk towards the golden elevator. James followed behind me closely.

"Yes you do. And I think I do too."

"Listen to me!" I said, poking him in the chest. "I am not some science experiment, some lab rat for you to observe! You don't know anything about me."

"I could," he reasoned, his face now so close to mine I was starting to feel sick. He smelled like spearmint. "If you'd let me."

"Why would I let you?" I wondered snidely. "Potter, we've been enemies since our first day of Hogwarts. We're supposed to hate each other. Why do you all of a sudden start caring?

"Because things change," he said, frustration lacing his voice. "People change. I feel bad for you Rosalie, and I want to help you."

"Well, I don't want your sympathy," I spat.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he said, nearly yelling now. Surely someone would appear at any moment and remove us from the premises for creating a commotion.

"Doing what?" I snapped.

"Drawing back," he told me. "Every time someone reaches out to you, you bite their hand off. What's so wrong with people being nice to you?"

"Because if you let them get close to you," I said. "They'll just end up ripping your heart out of your chest and stomp on it."

* * *

><p>I was terrified of going back.<p>

The Hogwarts Express whistled impatiently as students began to board it, laughing and dripping with wetness from the fresh, falling snow outside of King's Cross Station. Their faces were flushed pink from the chilly winter weather. I pulled my trunk along, using a simple levitation spell and bringing it to an empty compartment, gently placing it on the sturdy rack above me.

News spread fast in the wizarding world, and by now I'm sure that everyone at Hogwarts knew of it. The faces people were throwing at me: disappointment, anger, sadness, pity... it was too much for me to handle. And it was only going to get worse at school.

I shut the nearly translucent door behind me, taking a seat on the plush bench and flipping open the book in my hand. The binding brushed against the palm of my left hand as I did so and the smell of the book instantly calmed me. About thirty minutes later, and four chapters in, the train jolted and I shot forward with it's jagged movements. Frustrated, I wiped my pants off and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, biting the inside of my cheek.

The door slid open again, but I didn't bother looking up. A voice said to me, "Do you mind if I sit in here? All of the other compartments are full, besides the Slytherin ones... but I don't exactly fancy sitting there."

"Go ahead," I muttered. "It's not like I have any friends."

The door was shut gently and the person sat across from me gracefully. "Hey, aren't you Rosalie Flint?"

"Depends who's asking?" I sighed, looking up. My heart jumped a little when I realized I was looking into the intelligent eyes of Louis Weasley. "Louis?"

"I knew I'd recognized you," he said, grinning a little. "How are you?"

Pausing for a moment, I tried to avoid any awkwardness. Why did he have to chose this compartment? So many other witches would kill to share one with him. Why me? "I'm fine, thank you."

"That's not what I've heard," he responded truthfully. "Is it true that you've been disowned?"

Surprised slightly by his bluntness, but rather impressed, I said to him, "Yes, it's not a rumor I'm afraid."

Nodding like he understood perfectly, he said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not so bad, living on my own."

"Now you're just lying," he said.

Again, the shock of his direct, straightforward questions caught me off guard. "I suppose it gets lonely. But it's better than living with_ them_."

"Where were you staying, before you left for Hogwarts?"

"The Leaky Cauldron," I answered. "Shabby little place, it is, but not so terrible."

"I see," he said.

"So, why aren't you sitting with your friends?" I inquired, trying to evade our previous topic. Thinking about it was hard enough, never mind talking about it with a stranger such as Louis.

"I was actually looking for a quiet place to read," he said, holding up a book in his hand. The title read, on the beat up cover, _There and Back Again_. In smaller, less noticeable letters, the author's name was spelled out: _J.R.R. Tolkien_.

"The Hobbit?" I quirked, smiling a little. "I love Tolkien's works."

"So you've read them?" he asked, suddenly extremely interested. He leaned forward a little in excitement.

"Well, of course I have!" I said. "I've read all of them from back to front at least four times each."

"Six times, a-hah!" he replied, chuckling a little. "They're so fascinating, and he writes so differently. I'm always on the edge reading his books."

"Exactly how I feel!" I laughed, the gloomy cloud in my mind starting to part.

Sharing a compartment with Louis wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe it was because I didn't have to worry about anyone spotting us and reporting me to Mother and Father. There was definitely a sense of relief in that.

We walked to the Prefect meeting together, talking solely about the only two interests we shared: books and Quidditch. And we didn't mind a bit.

* * *

><p>"Albus, stop limping and hurry up!" James called to his brother. "If the barrier closes and we miss the train because you, you're explaining everything to McGonagall. I haven't been on good terms with her since 4th year."<p>

"You try running with a broken toe," Albus muttered crossly, hobbling along behind his brother, dragging his large and heavy trunk.

"Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey will fix it up when we get to Hogwarts. How did you even manage to slam it in the car door?"

"It wasn't my fault!" he complained. "It was Lily!"

"Right," James said nonchalantly, prepping to sprint. "Make sure you get enough speed when you run through the barrier. I don't want to spend the morning scraping you off of the wall."

"Please, James, try to contain your affection."

They both ran through the barrier without any complications, spotting their parents instantly and approaching them happily. Ginny hugged James tightly and he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Try to stay out of trouble, dear. I don't want anymore letters from McGonagall this term," she told him sternly.

"What can I say?" he grinned. "I'm a magnet for trouble."

Her eyebrows rose and she glared at him.

He winced and shrunk away. Alright, alright. No trouble!"

After saying goodbye to Harry and his mum one more time, he help Lily get her trunk onto the express and laughed as Albus tried to get his own trunk onto the train with a broken toe.

"You all set, squirt?" he asked Lily, her face flushed from the cold weather.

She smiled at him, her brown eyes twinkling. "Yup! Thanks!"

"Hey, Lily!" a second year Gryffindor called to the redhead. "Come sit with us!"

"Bye, James!" The twelve year old ran off to sit with her friends and James strode down the hall, smiling to himself. He searched the compartments for Fred and Molly, peeking through the clear windows for his two cousins.

About ten compartments down, he looked in and the first person he recognized was Rosalie. She had a blue book in her hand and she was smiling at the person across from her. Her black hair was down, descending past her shoulders, and her hazel eyes were sparkling. Her pale skin seemed to be glowing from the white light pouring in from the compartment window.

She looked pretty.

Then, James looked across the small room and his jaw went slack.

Louis. His very own cousin, Louis, with Flint.

When did that happen?

He held up his book for Rosalie to see and she nodded as he said something about it. "Nerds," James breathed quietly to himself. "Talking about books. Figures."

And she was happy. Whenever she was around James, she was just upset all of the time. But now, as she sat with Louis, she was smiling and laughing and enjoying herself. What did Louis have that he didn't?

A weird feeling squirmed in James' stomach. Nausea? No; it was jealousy.

Was he really jealous of Louis, because he could hold a civilized conversation with Rosalie Flint, even if it was just about books?

"Who are you spying on?" Albus asked James, causing him to jump.

"What? Me? Spying? I was not!" he huffed. "Your assumptions hurt me, brother!"

"You are such a drama queen," Albus mumbled, walking past his brother.

"King! Drama KING! Sheesh."


	18. It's Funny How That Worked

**Chapter 18**

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Prefects!" Dominique chirped, clapping her hands together giddily. "As you know, the second half of the term is when 7th years bust out the big pranks, so we will be assigning permanent partners for rounds this semester."

Excited whispers broke out in the small group of Prefects and hands went flying.

"Yes, Ali?" Dominique asked, pointing at Ali Longbottom.

"But we already have partners," she said.

"This is a little different," the blond Gryffindor explained. "This semester, your partner will be by your side for all rounds; there will be no splitting up to cover more grounds."

Ali nodded her head.

"Will we have the same partners?" Rachelle Davies questioned, her big front teeth protruding over her lower lip. "Or will we be paired with our House equivalents?"

"Neither," Clark Arlington said, boredom written all over his face.

"Clark is right," Dominique said. "The pairings will be within the same year, but your House is not a significant factor and neither is your gender. I have the list right here." She pulled out a scroll from her bag behind her and calmly zipped it back up, showing the parchment to us. "Listen up, guys. The 7th year partners will be me and Clark, as Head Boy and Head Girl have more specific duties; Justin Goforth and Ruth Verne; Freya Morkinton and Meghan Tousslepot; Cadmus Galloway and Kurt Macmillan."

There were several groans emitted, but all in all, people seemed content with their partners.

"Next, the sixth years," she said, clearing her throat.

I perked up in my seat a little.

"Louis Weasley and Beckett Gage; Rachelle Davies and Blake Zabini."

Glancing over to Blake, I saw him grimace a little. Then, his dark eyes caught mine and I turned away, sighing. I hadn't spoken to him in over two weeks, but he obviously knew about me being removed from our family tree. Who didn't? I felt guilty for not confiding in him, especially since he was probably the most understanding out of my group of Slytherin friends. But it wasn't like he was trying to contact me; if it had been him in my position, I'll admit that I would have ignore him like I'd never known him. It was a shame to recall my attitude towards rejected Slytherins, Muggle-borns, and blood traitors.

"Fred Weasley and Iris Greghan," Dominique continued, clear eyes scanning our own just to ensure that she held our attention.

I noticed Weasel give Potter a satisfied look and then watched as he ran his eyes over the cute Hufflepuff girl. She giggled and waved to him, flashing a flirtatious smile.

Sickened, I almost forgot that I hadn't been assigned a partner yet. Then, it dawned on my that there was only one other sixth year left to be paired with and I felt like I'd swallowed my entire esophagus as my eyes met James Potter's.

My horrors were confirmed as Dominique called out, "Rosalie Flint and James Potter. Now, to move on to the fifth years."

I didn't listen as she listed the remaining pairs. I was too obsorbed in the fact that I would be spending my Prefect duties side-by-side with Potter.

Did the gods hate me?

* * *

><p>I jumped a little when our door slammed open - again - and Albus Potter stormed in, limping and muttering curses. The tall, fourteen year old boy sat next to Louis and across from me, green eyes glazed over.<p>

"What's wrong?" Louis asked.

"Shut up!" he retorted bitterly.

"I love you too, Al," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry," Albus said, sighing as he glanced over to his cousin. "I think I broke my toe, and James has been laughing at me all morning. I needed a safe place to hide from him," he explained.

"Why is this compartment safer than the others?" I asked quietly, slightly annoyed.

He gave me an apologetic look and told me honestly, "Because you're in here."

"Great. And that's the insufferable baboon I get to share Prefect duties with!"

"My condolences," Louis snickered. During my small time with Louis, I had learned from him that he wasn't very fond of his cousin, James. He complained that James was, and I quote, "He is immature and lacks common sense. He never thinks about anything before he does it, and it often lands him in difficult situations. He's very oblivious to reality."

Actually, I had learned a lot about Louis' family. He had 9 or ten cousins, and he enjoyed the company of Lucy the most, who shared an infatuation with books like himself. His sister, Victoire, was 5 months pregnant, with James' godbrother's child. His mother was French and had taught Louis and Victoire quite a bit. Dominique hadn't taken any interest in the langauge.

_"You speak French?" I'd asked the Ravenclaw boy._

_"Oui, mademoiselle," he had answered, flashing me a grin. (**"Yes, ma'am."**)_

_"Je ne savais pas." I'd been very impressed; not many students spoke French at Hogwarts. (**"I didn't know."**)_

_"On est tres interessant," he'd mused, before casting his eyes down at his book once more, telling me about his favorite authors. (**"It is very interesting."**)_

I ignored Louis' smart comment and looked down at Albus' bare foot. "How did you hurt your toe?" I asked patiently, staring at the swollen stub that was totally purple underneath the toe nail. He winced when he touched it tenderly.

"Lily slammed it in the car door... don't ask," he said, face contorted in pain.

I examined it, and then took out my wand swiftly. Before he could say anything, I said briskly and loudly, "_Episkey_!"

The toe cracked and fell back into place. Albus yelled out in pain as I mended his broken toe, glaring at me unhappily as I put my wand back into my robes silently. "That wasn't necessary!" he told me, glancing back down at his healed toe. The swelling was already starting to go down.

"You're such a baby. I am disappointed in you Albus; I expected you to remember that cunning little spell. All of us learned it in second year, after all. It comes in handy, especially with broken toes, noses, and dislocated fingers. I have quite a signifigant amount of experience using it, playing Quidditch and all. Oh, and you're welcome."

He stared at me for a moment, before saying simply, "You are something else, Rosalie Flint."

"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?" I responded.

"I'd take it as a compliment," Louis said thoughtfully.

"Alright," I said nonchalantly. "Well, go on! Try walking on it!"

Albus stood up slowly, letting out a sigh of relief when he realized that it was perfectly healed and back to it's original state. "Sweet! This is amazing; you're a saint, Rosalie. Thanks."

I just gave him a nod as he stepped on it over and over again, grinning stupidly when he didn't feel any pain.

* * *

><p>"I trust you all had a wonderful winter holiday," McGonagall spoke from the front of the Great Hall.<p>

"Sure," I muttered sarcastically, playing with my empty goblet. I sat by myself at the long Slytherin table, on the receiving end of many glares. I knew the rest of this year was going to be bad, but this was just ridiculous.

"Just a few announcements," the headmistress continued. "As usual, the Forbidden Forest is off limits, even more so this semester. A new breed of wolves has settled in the forest and they are known to be rather territorial. Unless you are under the strict supervision of a staff member, do not trespass. Also, the Prefects have doubled up on duty-"

Groans rose from the crowds of students.

"So I expect no funny business from any of you. With that out of the way, welcome back to Hogwarts! Let the feast begin!"

On the large platters in front of me, food grew and grew until the plates were stuffed. Our goblets filled with our favorite drinks and all hell broke loose as students fought for food and tried to talk over each other, voices rising to their highest volumes.

My head started to pound violently.

Mariette watched me from her group of friends, her eyes guarded and expression grim. She sat next to Sophie Goulding and I gave a knowing look - not a comforting look, but a _knowing_ look; one that said with a couple of words, she could be in the same position as me. alone and disowned, shunned by everyone. She turned away, but I knew she was still thinking about the situation by the way she chewed on her lower lip. I didn't receive one glimpse of sympathy from her.

I started picking at some carrots, but they looked extremely unappetizing. I sighed, letting my fork clatter at the side of my plate, slouching forward and shutting my eyes.

The high voice of a little girl grew closer as she laughed with a friend, obviously going to visit someone else at the other end of the table. But as she walked past me, she stumbled over her own feet and her goblet flew forward, spilling ice-cold pumpkin juice all over the back of my robes and my hair. It soaked through the fabric, causing the clothes to stick to my back.

Everyone saw what had happened. The Great Hall went almost silent, the eyes of every witch and wizard on me and the girl. They waited to see how I would react, and what I would do.

I was known at Hogwarts for my flaming temper. I felt like screaming. I felt like hitting and hexing the girl until I was fully restrained and every ounce of energy had been used up. And I almost did, too, but my furious rage died at once when I met the blue eyes of a little Slytherin first year with soft, ebony hair.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked, eyes wide with terror. "I didn't mean to!"

The sugar in the pumpkin juice was causing my hair to go stringy. Soon, it would be sticky and impossible to deal with. I stood up, looking down at the little girl that had reminded me of myself, long ago at the beginning of the year.

I couldn't br mad at her. It was the people who treated me so awfully when I was her age that corrupted me. The glares and screams and violence of angry Slytherins had taught me to be cold and unforgiving. I didn't want this little girl to grow up to be like that.

"It doesn't matter," I mumbled, staring at her. "I'm going to go wash up."

She let out a sigh of relief as I turned away.

Feeling the eyes of the surprised students of Hogwarts on my back, I hurried out of the Great Hall, my face emotionless as I found my way to the dungeons, covered in pumpkin juice.

* * *

><p>The whispers didn't die down for a long time. Everyone was talking about Rosalie Flint and her reaction. Or her lack of one, that is to say.<p>

James Potter stared at the doors of the Great Hall, even though Rosalie had left nearly five minutes before. It was odd, certainly, but for some reason it hadn't surprised him.

She had changed. She was different than before. Yes, she was still an egomaniac, still thick-headed and angry and infuriating. But she was different. She was no longer ties to the cruel beliefs of her family, and that made her change.

He still felt guilty about her being disowned. She had sacrificed a sure future of comfort and wealth to testify for his baby sister. But she had done the right thing, and she knew it herself. And James was forever thankful for it.

"What are you staring at?" Fred asked him warily.

"Nothing," James muttered.

"I have to ask you something," Fred said, folding his hands and giving James a look.

"What?" he asked cautiously, looking at his cousin with slanted eyes.

"Do you fancy Rosalie Flint?"

"Why, do you object to our love? No measure of time will be enough!" James cried.

Fred rolled his eyes. "You are such a drama queen."

"It's _drama king_! KING! Say it with me: Drama. King. KING! Not queen! I am not a female, I am a man!"

"Sure. But I was being serious."

"No, I'm Sirius. James Sirius."

Fred's matching brown eyes widened. "You're avoiding the question!"

"No-" James paused. "No, I don't fancy Flint. That's absurd."

"You hesitated," Fred pointed out.

"I did not!" James denied. "Flint and I would never last."

"But you're hinting that there's a possibility?"

"Stop it!" James shouted loudly. "I don't fancy Rosalie Flint!"

The Gryffindor table instantly hushed up, staring at him as if he were mad.

"Why does everyone start listening at the worst times?" he grumbled, his face flushing red.

Fred dropped the subject then, thankfully. But it left James' mind to wander, and it was starting to get uncomfortable. Did he hesitate? No, of course not! He and Flint? Please. There was absolutely not one shred of attraction between the two of them.

He was sure of it.

Right.

He only saw Rosalie Flint one more time that night, and that was when she was in the library. It was almost 8:30, and she was sitting at a table with Louis, holding up a novel and smiling at something his cousin had said.

She never smiled at James like that. What did Louis have that he didn't?

And suddenly, his thoughts plunged into ways to make Rosalie Flint like him.

He shouldn't have cared. But he did.

It's funny how that worked.

**A/N:**** I hope this doesn't seem weird. Or cliche. ****And tell me what you think about Louis! Thanks for all of the reviews! Criticism is greatly appreciated!**


	19. Hello Drama, We Missed You

**Chapter 19 **

Sweat soaked my Quidditch robes as I flung the quaffle through the lowest hoop, scoring my team 10 more points in the match against Hufflepuff. A grin spread across my face as Siobhan Finnigan yelled into the amplifier.

"And Slytherin captain Rosalie Flint scores another 10 points, raising the score from 70 to 80! Slytherin leads Hufflepuff 80 to 30!"

Cheers erupted from the stands as people screamed my name. I couldn't helped but bask in the glory, waving to the crowds as I zoomed through the air, waiting to be passed the quaffle once more.

We won the game by a massive landslide. Corrin Vandevort was organizing a house party in the Slytherin common room, so most of the Slytherins were anxious to get to the party. After showering in the locker rooms, I threw on an outfit that I'd picked out beforehand: a pair of dark jeans, a red blouse, and some black flats.

I fixed my hair quickly and used some cosmetic spells to make myself look like I_ hadn't_ just played an invigorating game of Quidditch. I hurried out of the locker rooms and made my way to the castle. Groups of students were here and there, but by the time I had gotten out of the shower, most of them had already gotten back to the castle.

"Nice game, Flint," called a Slytherin second year.

"Thanks," I muttered, trudging past him and up the path.

"Awesome job," came another voice. A Ravenclaw, I think.

"Thanks," I repeated.

Finally, I got to the castle and hurried inside, rubbing my bare arms furiously in order to create warmth. I stepped down the halls silently, trying to avoid the attention of all the other students. I turned around a corner and approached the staircase that led me to the Slytherin dormitories.

Only to be slammed against the hard, stone wall.

Hands gripped my arms tightly and the stranger was pushed up against me tightly, intercepting any way of escape. I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of icy, blue eyes.

"Matthias," I whispered.

He grinned. "Hey, Rosie. You're looking fine."

With his light hair tousled and the top of his shirt unbuttoned, he looked so casual. But I knew who he really was, deep inside. How could people not see what I saw in him?

"What do you want?" I said, my voice calmer than I'd expected. My heart was beating a million times a minute and my palms were starting to sweat. "You shouldn't want anything to do with me. I was disowned, remember? Blood traitor scum!"

"I know," he said tentatively, his nose brushing the side on my jaw as his face grew closer to mine. "You've been a bad girl, lately. But I couldn't just stay away from you. You're my Rosie. And I wanted to make sure that you hadn't forgotten me while you were out, saving Potters and whatnot."

"I'm not your anything," I growled.

"Feisty tonight, aren't we?"

"You're not the one pinned against the wall!"

"Don't be like that," he hushed, tracing his right hand up and down my bare side, where my blouse had ridden up.

"If you try anything, I'll scream," I threatened.

He laughed. "And who would hear you? The other Slytherins at the party downstairs? Please, the music is so loud they can't even hear their own thoughts. You might want to try something else."

At a loss of what to do, I gaped at him while his grin grew wider.

"Matthias."

A voice echoed down the hallway. A familiar face stepped out of the shadows, peering at Matthias with an expression of boredom. "Don't touch her. She's just a piece of filth. A blood-traitor. Your parents would punish you severely if they ever found out. She's not worth it."

Matthias watched me with a contorted expression on his face, before leaning in and whispering into my ear, "This isn't over yet, Rosie." He let go of my arms and pushed me away, before joining Blake Zabini and walking down to the dormitories.

I hated it. I hated him. There was a burning passion inside of me, consuming every fiber of my being, as I watched his retreating figure.

"No, Matthias," I whispered. "It_ isn't_ over."

* * *

><p>I stood in the empty hallway, my fingers wrapped around my wand tightly as I waited for Potter to show up for our rounds. I tapped my toes on the ground anxiously, feeling especially jittery for some reason.<p>

He was ten minutes late, and I was already regretting not asking Dominique if I could trade partners with someone else, dumping the responsibility of Potter onto their slate.

"Hey, Flint," he said nonchalantly, approaching me from the direction of the Gryffindor dormitories.

"You!" I said loudly, pointing my wand at him, frustrated. "You are eleven minutes and twenty-three seconds late! You can't afford to be late!"

"Chill out," he said, putting his hands up in defense. "I got caught up in my homework."

"Your homework?" I snorted. "No, really, what were you doing?

He stared at me, before admitting that I'd called him out on his bluff. "Okay, fine. I was helping Fred pull off a big prank. But it was so worth being ten minutes late!"

"Eleven minutes!"

"Yeah, yeah. Eleven minutes."

I sighed. "The whole point of us doing rounds together is to _stop_ students from pulling pranks, not encourage it, you idiot!"

He shrugged. "Are you going to put your wand down, or are you just going to keep pointing it at me?"

"I should hex you right here and right now," I grumbled, putting my wand back at my side. "But, unfortunately, I need you in one piece for our rounds tonight."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright, so where do we get started?"

"We're in charge of floors three through five," I said. "Just until eleven o'clock. Then Louis and Beckett should be here to take over."

"Got it," he said, starting towards the direction of the staircases. "So, you and Louis have gotten pretty close than, huh?"

I snorted, following him. "'Close' is hardly the word I would choose. More like a mutual understanding; he knows where I stand, I know where he stands."

"No, no," Potter said. "He definitely thinks of you as a friend. Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?"

For some reason, I felt like he was baiting me. I growled, "What are you trying to get at, Potter?"

"Just trying to understand your friendship with my dear cousin," he replied quickly.

He began climbing the stone staircase, taking two at a time, while I stayed behind him, taking it easy and only climbing the stairs one by one. Finally, we reached the third floor corridor, passing the Charms classroom as we began our rounds.

"But... you like Louis' company?" he asked suddenly, waiting for me to catch up.

"I suppose," I answered skeptically. "I'm still at a loss as to why you care. Wish to explain?"

"Well, he's my cousin and I don't want him to be around the wrong influences-"

"Potter!"

"Anyway, did you hear about Oliver Wood's retirement? He's a close friend to the family, so we heard plenty about it..."

It had been made clear to me that Potter's sudden interest in my relationship with Louis Weasley was no longer up for discussion. But it certainly baffled my mind, and I couldn't help but wonder about it.

He always brought up the weirdest things.

"So," I began, changing the subject. "Are you ever going to tell me about that map you've got? And that cloak? You kind of left me hanging there."

It had only been a month or so since I walked in on him and Weasel in the Shrieking Shack, and while the events of the past month had pushed everything aside, I hadn't forgotten the curiousness of his invisibility cloak, his map, and his little club with Fred, called the Marauders.

He paused, pursing his lips, before revealing a piece of parchment in his robes. "This?" He handed it to me and I quickly grabbed it, looking at it in fascination.

Until I realized that it was blank.

"It's got nothing on it, you tosser," I said unhappily, still examining it.

"You have to say the password," he said to me bluntly, as if I were stupid.

"Well, what is it?" I asked testily.

"I couldn't tell you," Potter said. "Marauder code of honour. Fred won't let me tell anyone outside of the Marauders."

"You mean your lame, two-man club?"

"It's not lame," he said defensively.

"Could I try and guess it?" I wondered.

"You could," he said. "But I doubt you'll get it."

He was probably right; I wouldn't get the password, at least not for a while. It was probably something made up or stupid, something that nobody would think of. Or, perhaps it was so simple, that nobody would even think of it.

"Open," I said, tapping the parchment. Nothing happened, but I wasn't expecting anything anyways.

"Open?" Potter laughed. "We're not stupid, Rosie."

I scowled. "Whatever you say, Jamsie."

* * *

><p>My legs burned and my lungs heaved as I started my sixth lap around the Quidditch pitch. Icy, January rain was pouring down from the night sky and the moon was hidden by a thick sheet of storm clouds. My sopping wet black hair stuck to the back of my neck and my forehead and I wiped it away in frustration.<p>

"Keep pushing," I growled through clenched teeth, anxious to finish my sixth lap. "Lazy bitch, keep pushing!"

"Rosalie!"

A voice broke my concentration, startling me and causing my foot to catch a loose stone. I toppled over into the mud, rolling over onto my back and lying, still, in a dirty puddle. Drops of rain splattered onto my face and I screwed my eyes shut as I let it wash the dirt off of my face. My heart started beating rapidly as my anger boiled inside of me.

"Rosalie?"

I recognized the voice, and it only made me more furious.

"Rose-"

"I heard you the bleeding first time, Mariette!" I screeched, sitting up and staring at her figure from across the pitch. "What the fucking hell do you want? You've already ruined my exercise routine and caused me to fall into a fat puddle of muck! What else do you want?"

As she approached me, I noticed her hard face, but also her worried eyes. "We need to talk."

"About what?" I spat.

"About what you saw, last week."

"Lily Potter?" I asked, thoroughly confused but still irate.

"No; me and Sophie," she hissed, eyes darting behind her as if she were afraid that someone had followed her through the pouring rain and mountains of mud.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," I muttered, standing up. My arms and legs were covered in sticky, cold mud, and my undergarment was clearly visible through my soaked shirt. I stared at her expectantly. "Well?"

"I want you to swear that you won't tell anyone," she said to me.

"I can't believe this," I said. "After everything that I've been through: witnessing a little girl under the Cruciatus Curse, being responsible for the arrest of a wanted Death Eater, being disowned by my own family and sent to live on the streets... and you come to me so you can save your own bloody arse?"

"I'm sorry about what happened to you-"

"No you're not!" I screamed, my voice echoing around us.

We stood in the rain, staring at each other intently.

"I don't understand it," I told her. "You were my older sister, my big sister. You were supposed to protect me from the evils of the world, but instead you grew up hating me, your little sister. When I was young, I wanted to be just like you, Mariette, until I realized what a cruel, selfish bitch you were. But I guess, in a way, I ended up just the same anyhow.

"How do you feel?" I continued. "Seeing me like this. Are you satisfied now? I'm broken into a billion pieces, cast away from the family, hated by everyone; are you finally happy? Are your miseries gone? Gone with me?"

"Don't be like that," she said, reaching out to touch my shoulder.

I instantly pulled away from her. "You think that your secret is horrible? Well, get a fat load of this: Matthias fucking hit me. And then he tried to rape me."

It came out choppy, sudden, and almost too fast to comprehend.

Mariette stared at me, barely understanding what I'd just said. I was stunned, myself, startled that I had just admitted my one, deepest secret. I had never planned on revealing it, especially not to Mariette. Perhaps it had been the years of betrayal and hate my older sister had bestowed open me, finally getting to me. Or maybe it was my anger, forcing out the ugliest side of me.

I didn't care, though. I wanted to make her hurt like I was hurting.

"That's right," I said poisonously. "He hit me, he bit me, he touched me, and he finally tried to rape me. I wanted to tell someone, but I couldn't. I was afraid that... gods, I can't even say it! That _Mother and Father_ would drop me like that. Disown me for being a disgrace. But I'm not afraid anymore! And now you know the truth.

"And you know who was there for me, when you weren't?" I said, watching her eyes grow sadder and her frown deeper. "James fucking Potter. My supposed arch-rival."

I was crying now, but my anger and the rain hid it well. Mariette didn't seem to notice my tears, only her own as she started sobbing, staring at me like I was the most pitiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on.

"I didn't know," she said.

"Of course you didn't know!" I yelled. "You never gave a shit about me!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Because I was right. Because what I said was true. She had never cared about me, just like the rest of my family. No one cared about Rosalie Flint.

"I'm sorry," she told me, resting her hand on my shoulder.

Staring coldly at her, I said, "Sorry will never be enough for the pain you and _your_ family caused me. And remember this, Mariette: You secret will never be safe with me. I will never forget it and if you try to talk to me again, you will be the first person to hear me shout it to the world."

I ripped away from her grip and walked back to the girls' locker room, the strange mixture of relief and utter pain swirling in the pit of my stomach.

**A/N: Yeah, the bit with Rosalie and James wasn't my best, but oh well. Sorry this update took so long; I've been busy with school, family, yaddi yaddi yah, all of those typical '_author's excuses_'. So, leave a review, tell me what you think, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me advice! **


	20. Jobs, Homework, and James Potter

**Chapter 20**

I hurt all over.

My neck was stiff, my body was cramped, and my head was pounding. I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling restlessly, studying every indentation and mark on the roof and thinking about small, random things.

And how much I fucking hurt.

Georgiana was snoring like a cow. I was surprised I'd managed to sleep that far into night with her obnoxious rumblings and snorts. Veronique was sprawled on her bed, most of her limbs hanging over the side.

I hadn't really talked to either of them since we'd returned to Hogwarts. The whole situation with being disowned and everything obviously stood in the way and, of course, I had never liked either of them in the first place. I didn't want to talk to them, and they didn't want to talk to me. I was tempted to ask McGonagall about switching to another dormitory, but I was pretty sure nobody else wanted me, either.

Stretching my arms, I winced as I heard a sickening pop. The aches and pains were overbearing at some points of the night, and even though I had taken a pain-relieving potion, no significant change had taken place.

The Quidditch season was taking a toll on me; there were blisters on my hands from gripping my broom, bruises in between my legs from flying, and scrapes and more bruises from buldgers and aggressive opponents. Not to mention that the rough night on the muddy Quidditch pitch with Mariette had left me so sore.

Finally, I slowly sat up in my bed and gingerly got up, slipping my feet into a pair of slippers, throwing my blanket over my back, and escaping to the Slytherin common room. The large clock by the bookshelves read _4:32 am_, but I knew that any further attempts at sleeping would be futile.

I sat myself down on the empty couch, wrapped up in my blanket and leaning against the back cushion, letting the mellow fire warm me up. I shut my eyes as I listened to the quiet crackling of the fire in the hearth, the sound comforting me and the smell making me drowsy.

At 5:27 am, I decided that a cup of strong, black coffee was necessary. Lumbering through the dungeons and over to the basement area, I found the kitchens and discovered ten to fifteen house elves preparing breakfast for the sleeping students, who would be awake in two hours or so.

"Miss Flint," Polly the house elf squeaked. "What cans Polly do for the young lady?"

"A cup of coffee would be nice, thank you Polly," I said politely as she worked on fetching me a mug of coffee.

"Would the miss like Polly to puts anything in her coffee?"

"No, thank you."

In a minute or so, I was holding a scalding cup of coffee and making my way back to the dungeons. I tried to concentrate, doing some homework in my free time and reading some novel off of the shelf, one I'd already read twice. But my mind wouldn't focus. It was like a hive of bees, buzzing and thinking two hundred different thoughts at once, but all mushed together.

I did have a lot to think about. First of all, I went all out crazy on Mariette the other night, revealing all of the secrets I'd worked so hard at trying to keep to myself. I flushed that down the drain. Then, there were all of the enemies I had made in just over a short period of time. I was suddenly lacking followers and acquaintances, and in their place was a hoard of people who hated me. And that was just followed by questions like, "Where am I going to live this summer?" or, "How will I pay for my school supplies next year?" and also, "What will happen to me after Hogwarts?"

That was the moment that I decided that I needed a job.

Suddenly, I found myself knocking on the door of McGonagall's study at 7:15 am anxiously. I heard her beckon me in and I pushed the door open quietly.

Professor McGonagall's gray hair was pulled into a tight bun and her spectacles were wedged on the tip of her pointy nose. She wore a stern expression on her elderly face as I came to a halt in front of her desk.

"What can I do for you this morning, Miss Flint?" she inquired.

"I'm sure that you've heard about me being disowned this winter?" I asked bluntly, getting to the point swiftly.

When she didn't make any sign of confusion, I continued.

"Well, you see, I don't have enough money to support myself this coming summer and then after Hogwarts, and I was wondering if it would be possible for me to get a job in Hogsmeade," I said to her.

I had never had a job before. I had never even thought of it. But earning a sufficient income now seemed vital if I was going to survive on my own.

She took a deep breath, sitting back in her chair and putting her quill down by her parchment. "That is a very big responsibility, Miss Flint, I hope you are aware of that. It would be very difficult to work around, and there aren't many jobs available in Hogsmeade."

"I know, and I think I know of a place where I could earn some employment."

Everyone at Hogwarts had heard about the waitress at The Three Broomsticks who had come down with an awful case of spattergroit, and then got one of the bartenders and two other waitresses sick. They were desperate and they knew it.

"There is no doubt in my mind that you will be able to juggle your school work and your job at the same time, and I think you're very logical for coming to me about this," she stated.

"But?"

"I don't want the other students getting any ideas."

"I'll keep it a secret," I said solemnly. "I won't tell anyone. I'll just come to your office every evening and floo to Hogsmeade. Please, Professor. This is extremely important."

McGonagall looked at me from her desk with her sharp eyes. "Alright, Miss Flint. I will allow you to go job hunting this weekend in Hogsmeade, and if you return with a job offer, we will continue with this plan. But, if you do not, I'm afraid that you will have to find other means to survive this summer."

* * *

><p>I stood in front of the small inn, where a warm light shined through the foggy glass. I gently pushed the door open, entering the pub swiftly and avoiding eye contact with anyone inside. I hurried up the stairs and knocked on Madam Rosmerta's office door.<p>

"Enter," a low, feminine voice mustered.

I walked into the large room, where a desk covered in papers and empty tea cups littered the surface. Behind the desk was a thin, tired woman with light skin and messy hair sat.

"Can I help you?" she said, exhaustion lacing her words.

"I'm looking for a job," I said quickly, the words spewing out of my mouth. I was rarely ever nervous, but so much depended on this meeting and I couldn't help but feel a little anxious.

She looked up at me, her face a little surprised. "You're looking for a job?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Aren't you a little young? Are you a student at Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Yes, I am. I'm sixteen."

"Does anyone know you're here?" she asked skeptically.

"The headmistress does know, and has given me permission to search for a job," I told her honestly.

Madam Rosmerta rubbed her hands together. "What's your name, girl?"

"Rosalie Flint."

"And you said you were sixteen?"

I nodded.

"Are you completely aware of the responsibility holding a job requires? Especially when you are young, and when you have school on the side, too."

"Ma'am, I am completely aware of the circumstances. But I'm desperate for a sufficient income, and I need a job," I tried to explain.

"You're too young," she decided. "Especially to work at a pub."

"Please," I said. "This job is vital!"

She scanned my expression with beady, dark eyes. "But you're only a child."

"A child?" I snorted. "I was disowned this winter. I have no money, no place to live, and I'm running out of time. McGonagall gave me permission to search for a job, and is absolutely fine with the idea. And I've heard that you are quite desperate for employees. I see no reason why you shouldn't hire me."

She scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Do you even have any experience?"

"No," I admitted. "But I'm a fast and hard-worker. I can do whatever job you offer me, even if I am stuck with mopping the floors and changing dirty sheets."

Madam Rosmerta watched me curiously. "You are very determined."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You know what you want, and you won't stop until you have it. You're ambitious. And I do have my back against the wall." She paused, and I held my breath. "Miss Flint, when can you start?"

I gave a sigh of relief and let a tired smile cross my face. "Thank you, Madam. You won't be disappointed."

"I sincerely hope not."

* * *

><p>The library was empty and dark when James entered it, with the exception of a few lights on here and there. One or two students littered the area, their noses stuck in a book or a magazine. Why anyone would visit the library at this time of night by their own free will, he didn't know. It sounded like something Lucy or Louis would do.<p>

His fingers scanned the shelves, gently caressing each binding as he strode slowly down each hall. He searched for the bloody Transfiguration book, eager to exit the library as soon as possible. There were so many books, it was starting to creep him out.

James had always despised reading. He much preferred to be outside riding his broom or doing something that required physical action. He was full of energy, and reading didn't require any. And why stick your face into a fictional book when you could be out, living in reality?

He grabbed a green book with many brown stains on it, the title reading: A Wizard and Witch's Guide to Intermediate Transfiguration.

It contained a very detailed step-by-step list of instructions on how to change an owl into a pair of opera glasses, something James needed to know for his Transfiguration homework.

Failing Transfiguration was not something James could afford. McGonagall had promised him that if he received an O in Transfiguration with Professor Clidona, she would help him become a registered Animagus. Becoming an Animagus was one of his wildest dreams. He wanted to become just like his grandfather and his namesake, James Potter, who was also an Animagus. But the training was tedious and extremely difficult, and only someone talented in the art of Transfiguration could complete the training.

A fake cough interrupted his thoughts, and his head turned to find a very flirtatious Kimberly Snow, batting her eyelashes and grinning at him. Kimberly had been chasing after James since second year, and the number of times he had turned her down were countless. She just wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Hey James," she said, her voice coated in false sweetness. "What are you up to?" She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Nothing," he replied uneasily. "Just getting a book for my Transfiguration essay."

"Want to take a look at my essay?" she said, overly innocent. "It's back in my dorm..."

He shook his head. "No thanks, Kimberly. I've got it."

She approached him slowly, sauntering up to him. Her eyes were outlined with black make-up and she was wearing the skimpiest top that flaunted her large breasts. Her skirt barely reached mid-thigh. James wasn't going to lie: she was seriously hot. But something about the fake aura surrounding her was a huge turn-off.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, her hands touching the buttons of his shirt. "We could hang out for a while."

Something in her tone of voice suggested that she wasn't interested in just hanging out.

"I don't think so," he said, taking a step back. "I've got to get going-"

"Fine," she stalled, pursing her lips. "We can just hang out here for a while."

"Kimberly," he said, looking her straight in the eyes. "I don't want to hang out with you. Anywhere, for that matter."

"Playing hard to get?" she said, quirking a smile. "I like it."

"I'm not playing anything!" he denied. "I really want you to leave me alone!"

She had him cornered against the wall now, in the darkest part of the library. She was inches away from him, and really starting to creep him out. She eyed him carefully and seductively, raking her eyes up and down his body.

Could a girl rape a guy? Because if it was possible, he was sure that was what she was plotting.

"Aw, Jamsie!" she said, pouting her lower lip. "Don't be like that! You know you want me."

She was pressed up against him, literally feeling him up. He tried to push her away but she was so damn persistent! He was about to scream for help or something when a voice broke the tension in the air. Kimberly jumped back from James and he let out a relieved sigh.

"The library is not the place for sexual conduct," the dark-haired girl said, eyeing James and then Kimberly. "Break it up. Five points from Gryffindor."

James tried to thank Rosalie with his facial expressions. Staring at him with a mixed expression, she rolled her hazel eyes and turned her attention back to Kimberly.

"Whatever you say, Flint," Kimberly sneered, flipping her gorgeous hair.

"You can go now, Snow," Rosalie hissed, waving her hand dismissively, pointing Kimberly towards the exit.

Kimberly stalked off, a pout on her lips. She waved goodbye to James, making an obscene gesture with her hands and then blowing him a kiss.

"Five more points from Gryffindor for lewd gestures!" Rosalie called after Kimberly, who screeched something indecent back at her. "Do I need to take away more points? Because it doesn't bother me!"

The black-haired girl turned to face James, her expression suddenly tired. The darker features of her face, like the circles under her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks, were exagerrated and she looked simply overworked and exhausted.

"It's only Monday," James joked. "You look like hell."

"I feel like hell," she said miserably. "Rough weekend. So, you and Kimberly? You guys make an adorable couple." She offered him a thumbs up and started to walk back to her table.

"Me and Snow? You're kidding me, right? Snow's a freak! I'm pretty sure she just tried to rape me," he said defensively, following her.

"She had this obsession with Matthias back in fourth year. It ended badly. So, what are you doing in the library?" she questioned. "Did you enter the library on your own accord or did Snow force you into here, too? Because you and the library don't click together in my mind exactly."

His nose wrinkled and he held up the Transfiguration textbook for Rosalie to see. "Actually, I was looking for this book here."

"I've read that book," she said, taking a seat at the dimly lit table. James sat across from her. "It's incredible, no doubt one of the best step-by-step Transfiguration books I've ever seen."

"You read a textbook?" James asked incredulously. "You're such a dork!"

She shrugged, looking down at her own book.

* * *

><p>He waited and waited, until finally asking, "So what's your secret, Rosalie Flint?"<p>

"What do you mean?"

"You've just been so calm lately. How do you get rid of all of that stress?" He folded his hands, trying to look like a professional.

"It's still there," I said, rubbing a hand over my face. "I'm just so tired. I haven't been sleeping to well lately, that's all. And with Quidditch and school and everything weighing me down, no sleep hasn't been exactly beneficial."

"I guess, as the captain of an opposing Quidditch team, I should be ecstatic," he said, his voice light. "But... I'm kind of, you know."

"What?" I asked, looking up from my book.

"Worried."

Processing what he said, I couldn't help but snort. "You? Worried about me?"

"What's so ridiculous about it?" he asked, agitated.

My palms started sweating, but I didn't know why. My face screwed up as I started sputtering nonsense. "Worried? Can't... But, you are- were, um, you're James Potter."

"I kind of already knew that," he said, unimpressed. He crossed his arms, looking at me with slightly amused eyes but there was something else there. A faint spark of... something. I couldn't put my finger on it. But it was starting to freak me out.

Maybe I did know what it was. Maybe that was why I was starting to get jumpy. Maybe I didn't want to know what it was. But nonetheless, I was going into hyper drive.

It was a combination of things: a lack of sleep, tons of school work, the stress of getting a new job, and then working on homework at night. I wasn't eating, I was barely ever talking with other people... I was literally falling apart. It hurt, but there wasn't a bandage big enough to help me heal. There was nobody to help me carry the load. Gods, I sounded cliche. But it was true.

"I need to go," I mumbled, packing up my things in a flash.

Shocked by the sudden change of events, Potter jumped up and stood in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and looking at me like I'd gone mad. Which I probably had.

"What's wrong? Why did you react that way? Is it wrong to care?"

"We're supposed to hate each other," I choked out, my head starting to pound.

I couldn't tell you why I was acting like that. Honestly, I had no idea myself. I couldn't explain to to James Potter why I was shoving his words back down his throat and tossing him to the side. He had just totally stripped out of his pride to tell me he cared about me, and I was telling him that he was supposed to hate me. What was wrong with me?

I felt like my insides were melting.

"Do you want me to hate you?" he asked incredulously.

"It's easier that way! Just let go of me."

"It's easier than what?" he persisted, not letting go of my forearms.

My shoulders were starting to burn from his touch. I grew flustered as I tried to get out of his grasp. "It just is."

"Merlin, Flint, just calm down! I don't understand!"

My eyes flared. "Maybe I don't want you to understand."

"I don't care what you want! You're going insane and you have every right to! Why won't you let me help you? Can't you see that I've been trying to help you?"

"Because if I let you help me," I began. "If I let you in, you're just going to hurt me like everybody else."

And I broke away and left the library, hurrying back to the dungeons with this awful, churning knot in my stomach.

**A/N: I really hope ****this chapter doesn't sound weird, especially towards the end. I'm a little bit unsure of the way I ended... tell me what you think? **

**Thank you everyone for all of your reviews! **


	21. Flying to the Hills

**A/N: Sorry this took a while; I've been kind of busy and relatively uninspired. This chapter's kind of a filler, but here it is!**

**Chapter 21**

"You have got to be kidding me."

I stared at myself in the mirror, a horrified expression on my face. The top I was wearing was incredibly immodest and revealing, and the skirt barely reached mid-thigh. I had never worn anything so skimpy.

With my hair up in a ponytail and an apron around my waist, I flooed to Madam Rosmerta's office from McGonagall's study.

"You're on time, Miss Flint. Punctual, I like it," she complimented me. "A good way to start off your first day. Now, let me see..."

She hurried over to me from her desk, eyes scanning me.

"Is something wr-." Before I could finish my sentence, she interrupted me.

"No, no, no. Your hair needs to be put down." Her bony hands pulled my black hair from its ponytail and she let it flow down my back and over my shoulders. "And ruffle it up a bit like this. Now, fix your top like... this."

If it was even possible, she made the outfit look more scandalous.

When I looked at her with confused eyes, she told me, "We want to attract customers, not send them flying to the hills."

I felt a little insulted by her comment, but I let it drop. I allowed her to drag me down the stairs and to the back of the pub, where the kitchen was.

"Rosalie, this is Crystal Jenner, a waitress here," Madam Rosmerta said, introducing me to a tall, dark-skinned girl in a pair of killer heels. Her caramel brown hair was puffy and very curly, and hanging from her ears was a pair of large silver hoops.

"What's up?" she said, chewing a wad of gum in her mouth.

"Nothing," I said, eyeing her carefully.

"Crystal is going to show you the ropes," Madam Rosmerta said to me. "Do what she says, yeah? She's one of our finest waitresses."

The young woman snorted lightly. "Up until this weekend, I was your only waitress."

Madam Rosmerta waved her hand and started back for her study. "See you later tonight, Rosalie." Then she was gone.

"Thank the gods," I said, pulling my top up a bit.

"Oh, no," Crystal said. "You don't want to do that."

"Why?" I asked, frustrated slightly.

"The more you reveal, the more tips you make," she said, bored, like it was obvious.

I considered for a short couple of seconds, before grudgingly putting it back to its revealing state. "Okay."

"Alright, so since there's only two of us, we'll be dividing the customers in half. See that table over there?" She pointed at a pair of new customers, two middle aged men, over at a table by the door. "Watch me go take their order."

She sauntered over confidently, a smile now on her lips as she eyed them, biting her tongue playfully. It was strange to see her change from her usual, unambitious self to a seductive facade in just a matter of seconds. Is that how she expected me to act?

I could hear Crystal ask them, "What can I get you two?"

The pair ordered some strong, alcoholic beverages and Crystal served two, ice cold mugs to them swiftly, winking and waving goodbye as she came back to my side. She chewed her bubble gum sloppily. "See how it's done, sugar?"

A man, around the age of 20, walked in, taking a seat at a table on the other side of the room. Crystal looked at me expectantly, and I sighed, taking a notepad from her and whipping out a pen as I shuffled over there. I plastered a big smile on my lips, ruffling my hair up a bit.

"What can I get for you, doll?"

* * *

><p>"No, stop ringing! Stop it! I don't want to get up."<p>

Despite my aggravated yells, the alarm clock continued to ring. (Funny how that worked.) I grumbled, sitting up and shoving the clock off of the nightstand beside my bed. It crashed onto the floor, breaking into a million pieces.

I winced, sitting up groggily and rubbing my eyes. I looked down and noticed that I was in my uniform still, but the top had ridden down and my entire bra was visible.

Cursing, I stripped out of my uniform in the dark, hiding it away under my bed. I stepped on a shard of alarm clock, gauging the bottom of my foot painfully. The cursing was freely flooding from my mouth now, as I tried to find my school clothes in a messy bundle in my trunk, realizing that I had forgotten to put them out for the house elves to wash.

Then, I remembered that today was Thursday.

The day we had early Quidditch practice.

I shoved my robes on as speedily as I could, throwing my hair up into a ponytail and rushing to clean up the bloody mess I had made. Literally. After healing my foot and restoring my alarm clock to it's original state, I hurried out of my dormitory and stopped downstairs, in the common room.

The members of my team were up, groaning about practice, decked out in their Quidditch attire. I came to a halt in front of them, and their full attention turned to me.

"Stop staring at me," I barked. "It's been a bad morning."

"You look like hell," Corrin Vandevort sneered.

"Shove it, or I'll kick your fucking ass. Is everyone here?"

"Roland's looking for his pants," Cadmus Galloway snickered.

The huge bloke stumbled down the stairs tiredly. "Present, captain."

"Good to know," I muttered, starting for the exit. "Come on then, you oafs, let's get to the pitch before Potter decides he wants to take advantage of the empty field."

We made our way to the Quidditch pitch hurriedly, and when we reached the locker rooms, everyone grabbed their brooms swiftly. Practice went by fairly breezily, with the exception of Guff falling off of his broom into a pile of muck. But I didn't really care too much about him.

"Alright, let's get something straight," I growled, after congregating everyone into the meeting room. "We're playing Gryffindor this weekend, which means we need more difficult strategies, faster reflexes, and determined mindsets. We're neck and neck with them, and losing isn't an option anymore. The tournament for the house cup is beginning in March. We can't afford any losses.

"With hard work and ambition, I'm sure we can win the house cup this year!"

* * *

><p>My eyes felt like they were going to fall out and my brain, I was sure, was about to collapse.<p>

I wanted to mutter terribly profanities and screech about my overbearing workload, but I didn't have the energy to keep my head lifted anymore, never mind work my lips.

The common room was barely lit by the dying fire as I stared at the book in front of me, not comprehending anything that I read. Beside me, acup of hot chocolate steamed. I had to keep heating it up every ten minutes because I wasn't drinking it fast enough.

It was 12:13 AM, which wasn't necessarily late, per say, but it felt like the end of the world to me. The day had gone by in an absolute blur, but it was all catching up to me now.

The morning Quidditch practice totally slowed me down. Then, I had to miss breakfast so I could finish up a History of Magic essay for Professor Binns. Following that, there was a series of awkward falls, spilling potions, bumping into people, and then work at 8pm. I was utterly drained, but I refused to complain to anyone. I had asked for this in the first place, anyway.

My stomach grumbled, and I let out a small moan. "I'm so hungry. Why can't food just magically appear? Everything else here is fucking _magical_."

They say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. If I hadn't already known that I was crazy, I would be getting worried at this point. I must have looked positively insane, sitting there.

I let my head rest on the table. "I have to get myself together. This is never going to work if I keep this routine up. I need more sleep, more food, and less everything else. I have no space to think."

Reaching over for my mug, I lifted my head just barely so I could take a sip.

"It's not very fair, is it? Just because I'm standing up for what's right, I have to suffer while the wrong-doers go on majestically with no worries in life. I used to be like that."

It was strangely relieving, to hear this stuff being said out loud, even if it was just me talking to myself.

"Yeah, I was the queen of this place. And I had enough time to eat food."

The topic of food wasn't going to leave my mind.

"But now, I'm like a piece of chewing gum stuck to the underside of a table. The lowest of them all. Just nobody's had the gut to say it to my face. Well, I have guts. Or I used to. Having guts doesn't fit into my schedule anymore."

Something slammed onto the table next to me, and I lazily turned my attention to it. It was a chocolate skeleton and two licorice wands.

"What do you know? Food does appear magically!"

"Are you_ delusional?_"

"No," I groaned, sitting up to find the bright eyes of Albus Potter staring at me.

He took a seat across from me at the table, a weird expression on his face. "Are you alright, Rosalie?"

I opened the chocolate skeleton and took a bite, already feeling satisfied. "No, not really. But I'm working on it."

"I could hear you talking to yourself from the boy's lavatory," he explained, almost amused. "You are a peculiar girl."

"Peculiar?" I said. "No, I prefer to think of myself as unique. But not peculiar."

He paused, before continuing casually, treading lightly. "I hate to agree with Corrin Vandevort, but I have to say, you do look like hell, Rosalie. What's happened to you? I rarely see you anymore."

"Been busy," I said with a mouthful of chocolate. "I still sort of am." I gestured at the books sitting in front of me.

"And you couldn't find time for this after dinner?"

"No," I answered simply, taking another sip of hot chocolate.

"Do you need some help?"

"Of course not," I scoffed.

"Maybe that's your problem."

I stopped everything for a second, looking back up at the gangly 14 year old. Albus watched me carefully, fixing his glasses awkwardly as he waited for me to respond to his statement.

"I don't have a problem. Gods, what is it with you and your brother? Why are you two so keen on pointing out that there's something wrong with me? I'm fine!" I said loudly.

"Because you do have a problem," he answered truthfully. "We don't know exactly what you're dealing with, but you definitely have problems. One of them is that you won't let anyone help you, even when you need help the most."

"Help... problems... you know what? If I wanted to have someone assess my life, I would go see Dr. Phil or whatever."

"Dr. Phil? Who's that?"

"Never mind," I mumbled.

"The point," he said gently. "Is that you are, to say it plainly, stressed and overworked. It's like you're having a mid-life crisis, except... you're no where near the middle of your life. And if you really hate having James try to help you, let me at least try."

"Do you two get together and have meetings about me or something? You know what? You're too kind for your own good," I told him truthfully. "I'll be fine, okay?"

"No, not okay. Isn't there anything I can do?"

"Not really."

"Look at me, Rosalie."

I looked at him hesitantly.

"You have no friends, no family, and, by the end of the school year, you'll have no place to live." The bluntness of his statement caught me off guard. "So, I can't imagine what's going through your mind right now. But, I've talked to my mum and dad, and they have agreed to, you know."

"No, I don't know," I replied stubbornly, sincerely confused.

Albus let out a sigh.

"To let you stay with us. This summer, come live with us."


	22. Amortentia

"What am I? Some charity case? Stop following me around! The answer is no and always will be no!"

It had been approximately 32 hours since Albus Potter had offered to take me in. The offer had made me furious, no doubt, and he just could not see why I had refused his offer.

"Rosalie, stop being such a stubborn prick!"

"I can be a stubborn prick if I want to!"

He groaned and finally stopped walking. "Whatever! I give up!"

"Good! That's what I wanted you to do!"

I turned around the corner recklessly, and crashed into a smaller figure. We both fell to the ground, knocking the air out of me. With a scowl on my face, I turned to look at the girl I'd run into. "Watch where your going, clumsy ass!"

The girl appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years old, with light brown hair and innocent blue eyes. She stared blankly at me, confusion and shock written on her face.

Standing up, I brushed my clothes off. "What are you, deaf? Answer me!"

"If you'd shut your huge mouth for a minute and actually observed the situation," came a voice from around the corner. A boy, the same age as the girl, appeared with a dirty look on his face. "You'd realize that yes. She is deaf."

He helped her up, and then used his hands to say something to her, while speaking the words simultaneously. "Are you alright?"

Relief washed over her face as she started signing to him swiftly.

I started to feel guilty. And, as anybody would know, I never felt guilty. I felt at a loss of words as I stared at the duo. "I didn't know."

"It doesn't even matter," the guy grumbled.

Touching the girl's arm to get her attention, I said loudly, "I'm sorry."

She blushed, nodding, like she was shyly saying, "It's okay."

"It doesn't matter how loud you say it," he sniffed. "She still can't hear you."

"Can't anyone heal it? Her loss of hearing? I've read of cures-."

"It was done by Dark Magic," he interrupted. "There's no way to heal it." He cleared his throat, before changing the subject. "I'm Jared Olinik, and this is Kate Levesque."

"Rosalie Flint."

"Ah, so you're the famous Rosalie Flint?" Jared inquired, signing while he spoke. "Can't say I'm surprised. You seem to fit the bill well."

"Thanks. I think. Anyway, I'm really sorry about crashing into Kate, you, and for the rude comment. It's been one hell of a day," I explained to the pair, watching as the boy translated my words.

Kate mouthed, "It's okay," with a smile.

"So, what House are you two in?"

"Hufflepuff," Jared answered. "5th years."

"Cool. Well, I got to run. I've got rounds this evening. I hope I'll see you guys around." With a wave, I took off in the opposite direction to the two.

Conversing with Hufflepuffs had always been a chore for me. I loathed Hufflepuffs and their wimpy House. But a lot of things had changed this year. Maybe this was one of the things. I mean, the way Jared was so protective and loyal to Kate was - and I hated admitting this - heart touching. Maybe everything that the House of the Badgers stood for wasn't a load of bull. It was genuine and respectable.

Oh, look at me. All buckets of joy and tears and what not.

* * *

><p>Scratching my nose more out of boredom than anything else, I settled into my chair.<p>

"Amortentia," Slughorn boomed from the front of the classroom. "It is the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind, and also the most dangerous concoction. It does not create real affection, of course, but it does create a strong obsession and attachment. Can anyone tell me some specific characteristics about this potion?"

My hand shot up and he pointed at me. "Ah, yes. Miss Flint."

"Very distinct spirals rise from the freshly-brewed potion, sir," I said. "Also, the scent is easy to recognize; it smells like whatever appeals to that individual the most."

"Good, Miss Flint. 5 points to Slytherin."

A Gryffindor in the back of the classroom groaned.

"Today, we will be begin brewing batches of this potion. I will admit, it is a very advanced potion, it will take quite some times, and only extremely skilled Potioneers can perfect it. I will be placing you in pairs of two for this project. And just so we don't end up in a similar position, like last time," he said, trailing off and glancing at Weasel and Potter anxiously. Last time I had Potions with Gryffindor, Fred and James melted a hole in the center of their table.

"I will be assigning the partners," he finished.

He paired us off one by one. I nearly screeched when he put me with James Potter, but should I have expected anything less disastrous and cliche? I had already decided that the Fates hated me.

"This potion will cost you a quarter of your grade, students. Pay very close attention to what you are doing."

"Alright, listen up," I growled, slamming my book down next to Potter and taking a seat. I leaned closer to him, giving a menacing glare. "I don't care whether you help me or not, but you will not interfer with my potion-making, got it? It's a very difficult process, brewing Amortentia, and the last thing I want you to do is mess it up!"

"Whatever you say, your Majesty," he said, cracking a grin and leaning back lazily in his chair. He laced his fingers behind his head and propped his feet up on our table.

"Don't even start," I muttered, shoving his feet back down.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked after a minute or so, looking hopelessly at all of the ingredients set out in front of us.

I reached for the first ingredient and handed the correct amount to him, along with a knife. "Chop up these peppermint leaves."

"What do they do? I mean, in the potion," he wondered.

"They're more for flavor than anything. You can't mess them up, no matter what you do," I answered quietly, taking some lovage leaves and rolling them into balls.

"And the lovage leaves?"

"They're to confuse the drinker," I explained. "They're a common ingredient in Confusing and Befuddlement Draughts."

"You know a lot about Potions," he observed, messily chopping up the peppermint.

I took the rolled up lovage and put it into the boiling water in the cauldron. They dissolved perfectly. "I suppose so. I've always had an extreme interest in the art, and when I arrived at Hogwarts, my passion was magnified significantly. If I didn't want a future involved with Quidditch, I would have hoped to become a professional Potioneer."

He pushed the destroyed peppermint leaves to the side of his cutting board with the blade of his knife. "I didn't know you wanted to play Quidditch after school."

"It's not like you ever asked," I muttered, pouring some pomegranate juice into the cauldron with several five second intervals. The brew immediately turned a light purple, with a tint of red. "Here, slice these blades of Scurvy grass from tip to tip."

It looked like he was trying to flay the poor pieces of grass.

"No, not like that, Potter!"

James groaned something unintelligible under his breath and removed the destroy piece of grass. "What's the difference?"

"A lot of things can go wrong if you don't follow the instructions word for word," I snipped. "Unless you discover a way to strengthen the potion or make it easier to complete. Experimenting with potions during class, though, isn't a good idea."

With a roll of his eyes, he started slicing them correctly.

Taking five rose thorns, I ground them and then I tossed them into the brewing concotion. It turned a deep red. I then took James' sliced pieces of Scurvy grass and threw them in.

"Rose thorns are a common ingredient in all types of Love potions," I murmured, more to myself. Then, I took a frozen Ashwinder egg and cracked it open, allowing the frozen yoke to drop into the cauldron. It bubbled and singed and spat.

"Gross," Potter complained.

The liquid burst into red flames and James jumped back. "Merlin's soggy knickers! What the hell did we do wrong?"

I rolled my own eyes and Slughorn called from his desk, "Language, Mr. Potter." Several kids broke into snickers, laughing at him and his little outburst.

"Can you sprinkle some powdered Moonstone into the potion?" I asked. "Then toss in the peppermint." The brewing potion stopped burning and returned to it's boiling state.

"It's supposed to do that? Burst into bloody flames?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, Potter," I said, chortling. "Now, the Moonstone powder!"

"The Moonstone powder is the glowing stuff, right?"

"Yes."

He completed the tasks I gave him, smiling proudly as if the potion had been made based solely on his efforts. I took a ladle and stirred the potion seven times clockwise, and then four times counter-clockwise. "Now, we wait exactly two weeks, storing the potion in a freezer at exactly -56 degrees. After that, we can administer the Jobberknoll feathers, the bulbadox juice, the cubes of butterscotch, and then the Valerian petals, and the Potion will be finished.

"Did you memorize this potion or something?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I've brewed it before."

"When?"

"For a friend," I answered simply.

He didn't prod for a more detailed answer. I put a lid over the hot cauldron cautiously. "Now what?" he questioned.

"We wait, obviously," I said snidely. "We're the first people finished."

I glanced around the room, watching others try to prepare their potions. Georgiana had a bunch of Moonstone powder glowing in her hair and Veronique was hitting her head with her ladle. Matthias had put in the thorns before the lovage leaves, triggering a nasty explosion. His face was covered in red goop. I didn't dare laugh out loud, but it was pretty humorous. He caught my eyes and sent a nasty look my way. I quickly ducked out of view.

* * *

><p>Slughorn stated, "Alright, students! I am very eager to see how your potions have progressed! Everyone, remove the lids from your cauldrons."<p>

Potter lifted the lid off of our's, and I brought it down to a very low boil.

"Miss Flint and Mr. Potter!" he said, wandering up to us, after tutting people about their horrendous brews and sloppy work stations. "Flawless, like always!" he exclaimed. "Everyone, come here and observe their potion! Notice the heart-shaped spirals rising from the potion, and the wonderful aroma! Tell me, Mr. Potter. What do you smell?"

The students gathered around us, staring at our perfected potion.

James took a good whiff of the pot, looking up thoughtfully for a second. "I smell... Mum's food."

"Ay ay!" Fred called out from a couple of rows away, cheering for Ginny Weasley's cooking.

"And," James continued. "I smell black coffee. With the scent of new broomsticks."

"Interesting," Slughorn mused. "What about you, Miss Flint?"

I breathed in the smell of the potion and exhaled contently. "I smell the Quidditch pitch, fresh in the morning. And the smell of new books. Also, I smell... spearmint."

I stood, dumbfounded, for the rest of potions class while Slughorn allowed others to smell our potion. He finished the class by grading all of our work by our finished project and also the amount of effort we put in. What I couldn't grasp was the certain smell of the potion that wafted through the room. Spearmint? Where'd that come from?

The Quidditch pitch I could understand. And I adored the smell of new books. I used to step into Flourish and Blotts and just close my eyes, inhaling the scent of new books and then explore the endless rows of novels greedily.

But spearmint?

Searching my mind, I tried to remember when I'd ever found the smell of spearmint appealing, and decided that I never had. It wasn't just any spearmint, though. It was a specific type of spearmint, like some sort of toothpaste or chewing gum. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

As I was stepping out of potions, my mind clouded with thoughts, James followed me and gently gripped my shoulder, turning me around and saying, "Thanks for helping me, Rosie. You're bloody brilliant."

"Whatever," I snorted. "I guess you're not so bad yourself, Potter."

He gasped. "A compliment? From the Ice Queen herself? I'm honored!"

"Shove it!"

"Hey, I got to ask you something," he said quietly, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. He watched me carefully, biting the inside of his left cheek,like I were a bomb about to go off at any second, without any warning. "It's about, you know."

"What?"

"Just... would it be so terrible?"

Squinting my eyes in confusion, I repeated my previous statement. "What? Would what be so terrible?"

"Spending the summer with us? At my house?"

Catching me off guard, I paused my retaliation, trying to come up with a good answer. My focus riveted on his mesmerizing, innocent and mischevious brown eyes, I tried to find some sort of deceit or motive behind him.

Before I could respond, Fred grabbed James' arm and lugged him away. James followed him, without looking back at me.

**A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had to come up with a recipe for Amortentia. That was NOT easy! But I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. I'm open to any opinions and/or suggestions! **

**So, in 10 days I'm leaving for France, and I'll be gone for almost all of May. I'm going to try and get a big chapter up before I leave. **

**Thanks a lot guys for all of the reviews. **


	23. Not Your Face But Your Heart's Desire

**Chapter 23**

"I can't believe you're going to do this," Fred said ashamedly, covering his hands with his face. "Showing her, of all people."

"Don't be like that, Freddie," James said, his expression distracted as he carried the Marauder's Map in one hand and then his infamous Invisibility Cloak in the other. "Rosalie just wants a peek. She's never seen a genuine Invisibility Cloak."

"Neither have the hundreds of other students at Hogwarts," Fred snorted. "Are we going to show it to them, too?"

James sighed. "Just come off it, alright? I'm going to meet her now for our rounds. See you later."

Leaving behind his distraught cousin, James jumped out of the Fat Lady's portrait and hurried down the halls, his mind somewhere else. He hoped that by showing Rosalie that he trusted her, she would ultimately decide to stay with him and his family during the summer.

When the subject had been brought up to his family, by himself and Albus, there had been no objections. Mr. Potter knew what it was like to have no family, and Mrs. Potter and Lily were excited at the thought of having another girl in the house. "And she saved our Lily," Ginny had added. "We owe her so much."

The only difficult part was getting Rosalie to agree. She was so stubborn and head-strong. Sometimes it was admirable. Other times, it was just a pain in James' arse.

He met the raven-haired girl in the dark corridors, right outside of the Slytherin common room. He tapped her shoulder, suddenly excited. "Hey, Rosie," he said, using her annoying pet name.

She didn't turn around at first, and James' smiled dropped. "Hey."

Rosalie's voice was thickened and slurred. Eyebrows creased, he immediately needed to know what had happened to the enemy he'd grown so attached to. "What's up with you?" he said lightly.

With a sigh, she turned around. She sported a bloody fat lip and a nasty black eye, and she watched him contemptuously with her battered but expressive face. She paused, as if she didn't know how to defend herself, before she said, "Hi Potter."

"What happened to your face?" he blurted out inconsiderately, dropping the cloak against the corridor wall.

"It doesn't matter," she said scornfully. "Let's just get our rounds over with."

"Come on, you can tell me," he badgered. "Did someone do this to you?"

"I said it doesn't bloody matter," she growled sternly. "I'm not really in a 'share and care' mood."

With a click of his tongue, he reached out and touched her fat lip with his thumb. "That's a nasty split lip."

Rosalie recoiled from his touch with a grimace. "Get your hands off of me, you git."

"Ooh, isn't it our Rosie? Getting cozy with Potter, I see!" came a chilly voice from the shadows. Matthias and Blake stepped out from the darkness, away from the concealing blanket. Blake had a bruised cheek bone, but Matthias had the worst. Not only were there several scratches on his face, but he was missing a front tooth.

If the severity of the situation hadn't been so deep, James would've laughed. He turned to get a good look at Matthias and Blake, watching them with venomous brown eyes.

"Do I need to punch out the rest of your teeth, or can you take the hint?" Rosalie yelled.

"Touchy, aren't we?" Matthias said almost playfully, as if we were just his pawns in his game. With a wicked, gaping smile, he continued, "Apparently, we didn't knock enough sense into you before, filthy blood traitor."

"Don't you know the way to a woman's heart?" Rosalie taunted grimly.

"Darling, I don't want your heart," he belittled.

"Out of bed past curfew, Matthias? 10 points from Slytherin. Go back to the common room before I take away more," she threatened, eyes gleaming with pure distaste and hatred. "Go on, you gits."

"Oh, you take the fun out of everything," Matthias droned. "Alright then, come on Blake. See you later, Rosie," he winked.

After they disappeared, James turned to face the dark-haired girl. "Let me guess? It was those two idiots that hurt you, am I right?"

"It was them and Georgiana and Veronique," Rosalie admitted.

"Rosalie, you promised. Back in December, you promised that you would report Matthias," James reminded her.

She took a shaky breath. "It's not that easy."

* * *

><p>"Yes it is," James challenged. "He doesn't have to rule over you anymore. He doesn't own you."<p>

Looking for a way to escape the conversation, I backed away from James. It was funny, actually, that I refused to step away from Matthias but I couldn't stand near James.

"I can't understand you," the tall boy explained, exasperated. "I wish I could, and I've tried. I really have. But you have to understand that I will never get you until you let me."

Swallowing, I said quietly, "It's hard."

"It doesn't have to be." And he took a step closer to me. Another one. Another one, until he was just inches away from me. "I want to help you," he breathed. "But I can't until you want it, too."

I caught the scent of something, and it distracted me. I shouldn't have been so focused on the smell, but as it wavered past me, it overwhelmed me. It was overbearing, not because of the actual scent but because of the impact it had on me.

"Spearmint. Not like the leaf, but like toothpaste," I whispered to myself.

James' eyes squinted in confusion. "Now you've gone mad."

Eyes wide, I leaned in closer, just to smell it again. It was definitely there. He smelled like spearmint.

"Are you sniffing me? Why are you sniffing me?"

I took a startled step back. "We have to start our rounds." I left no room for question.

With a disgruntled expression on his face, he let the moment slip out of his hands. He gave me a look that just cut through me, before an unsure smile took it's place. "Look what I've brought you."

He took out a piece of parchment from his robes, and then bent over and picked up something he had left by the wall. I couldn't see it, so immediately I knew what it was. "No," I said, the smallest of grins appearing on my face.

"Yes," he said gently, stepping closer to me and bringing his arms around me. I felt the cloak rest on my shoulders and I gripped the invisible fabric tightly as he pulled away. His arm grazed mine and my face turned red involuntarily. But I didn't have time to feel embarrassed. I stared down at my body, that was no longer there.

"Incredible. A genuine invisibility cloak. And the secret to the _Marauders'_ success."

"That's not all." He cleared his throat and tapped his wand onto the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Red ink broke onto the once blank parchment, spreading all over the paper fluidly, like blood spreading through clear water. James pointed to a spot on the map, where two pairs of foot prints stood side by side. Above one of the two was a note that stated, "James Potter". The other one sprawled out my name. "Rosalie Flint."

"How brilliant," I whispered. "But why are you showing me this?"

He grinned mischievously. "I have my reasons."

I couldn't bring myself to be upset with him. Because, in that moment of time, I forgot everything. I forgot that I didn't have a family, that I didn't have a home, that I had many enemies clinging onto my back, and that I was drowning in my own life. It was as if I had been allowed one breath of fresh air. I had burst through the surface of the consuming water, and was breathing an air clean of toils and tribulations.

It felt amazing.

* * *

><p>Leaping up the stone steps, I came to a halt as my staircase started to move. Rolling my eyes, I waited for it to cease motion and then I walked onto the sturdy 5th floor. It wasn't my original destination, but it would have to do. I couldn't believe that Georgiana and Veronique had hid my broom; the nerve! It was simply juvenile.<p>

I had a lot to think about, I suppose. That didn't mean I wanted to think about it, though; in all honesty, I wanted to shove it under a carpet and never touch it again. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. I needed to sort out my head and all of these unruly thoughts, and just start putting everything in stone.

For starters, I couldn't continue living in the state I was currently living in. Classes and homework, Quidditch, work, and the issues presented by Matthias and his gang of horrid followers. The smallest things were now deemed impossible, like eating a simple meal or reading in a library. Trouble always popped up, no matter where I went.

Then, there was the matter of where I was going to live this summer. With the Potters? That seemed irrational. Did i really want to spend an entire summer with the famous, traitorous family? The muggle lovers? I had been raised to hate them, hadn't I?

This search was a waste of time. I could be doing so much more with my precious moments. I only had so long before the school year ended and I was stranded, left homeless.

I reached an unfamiliar door and I threw it open. It revealed a deserted corridor, that was littered with a disgusting amount of dust, garbage, and many cobwebs. Warily, I ventured in and shut the door behind me. Immediately, I was cast into the darkness. I took out my wand and muttered, "Lumos."

Instantly, the tip of my wand illuminated. I was met with an old portrait, who winced grumpily at the sudden light. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you see a pair of girls come this way?" I asked quietly.

"Maybe I have," he snorted.

I scowled. "They've taken my broom, and I need it for the match this evening! So, just tell me!"

"With an attitude like that, you'll never go anywhere in life," he told me, before retreating from his frame and leaving my sight.

"Well, you were helpful," I sniffed, continuing my way down the empty hall. Finally, I reached another door. It was locked, but it didn't bother me. With a tap of my wand, it unlocked loudly and the door swung open.

I walked into the stone room, looking up at the high ceiling and the windowless walls. In the corner of the room stood a tall, round-cornered object, covered in an old and torn blanket. Hesitantly, I pulled the cover away, finding a large, elegant mirror with exquisite designs wrapping around the reflective glass.

On the top of the mirror, in ancient letters, it read: "_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._" Realization hit me as I breathed, "The Mirror of Erised."

I had read about the infamous mirror many times, but the location of it had always remained a mystery to the students of Hogwarts. Occasionally, someone would claim to have found it, but them when he went back to it, it was always gone. I imagined that McGonagall kept an eye on it, and whenever it's location was discovered, she would move it once again. It was too much of a treasure to be destroyed, though many good men had wasted away in front of it, unsure of the vision they were seeing was the future or just the shadow of a wish.

Approaching it delicately, I knew that this was the last time I would see the beautiful looking glass. I touched the cold metal, watching as my identical self stared at me with warm, hazel eyes.

More people walked into the frame, but I barely recognized them. The first one I saw was my own mother, but she wasn't wearing the usual, cold and stiff glare. A happy, delighted smile had take it's place, and she was playing with my hair. Her icy eyes had melted, and in their place was a pair of smoldering, loving grey eyes.

Beside her stood my father, his face covered with a trimmed beard. Wrinkles had collected around his eyes, laugh lines from many smiles. His left arm was around my mother's waist, and he bent over to kiss her cheek. His right hand was on my shoulder, gripping it so gently, unlike the many times he had hit me out of spite and anger. These emotions didn't exist on his face as he looked at me, cherishing me.

Marcus stood beside my father, towering over him. He was wearing Quidditch robes and holding out a broom to me, beckoning me to play with him. We hadn't played together since I was just a child. Mariette was hugging me from the side, laughing as her beautiful golden curls cased her pale face. She whispered something in my ear, and I laughed at her joke.

I touched my lips, but no smile existed on my lips as I stared at the scene in front of me.

Georgiana and Veronique, along with Blake were sitting on the ground in front of us, smiling up at me. I had never seen Blake smile before; it wasn't chilling as I had expected to be. It was gentle and exuberant.

But my eyes widened when James Potter stepped into the mirror, his famous crooked grin on his face as he walked in between Marcus and Father, coming to my side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He leaned in and his lips barely grazed my forehead as he calmly kissed me, like he had done it so many times before. My reflection turned to look up at him, and I giggled as I left Mariette's embrace and wrapped my arms around his waist.

My eyes felt wet and tears leaked down my flustered cheeks as I dropped to a sitting position in front of the hypnotizing mirror. I could now see why so many before me had never wanted to separate from it's welcoming feeling. I wanted to take the place of my reflection, to walk into the mirror and never come back to the cruel world I existed in. I lusted for the scene in front of me to become reality, and not just a dream.

I sunk into a sitting position, and the scene shifted, working around my movement. A sob wracked my chest and I finally realized that I was crying. Tears flowed freely as I sobbed unashamedly in front of the glass. I couldn't help but reach and touch the back of my hair, to see if my mother was really playing with it so gingerly. Of course she wasn't. And she never would.

I wasn't going to waste my time, wishing upon an impossible fantasy. It would be silly and foolish of me if I were to throw away reality and lust for such a dream.

_But_, I thought. _I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I just spent another five minutes here._

They continued to smile at me, encouraging me. Before I realized how stupid my actions before, I found myself stretching my arm out and touching where James' hand would have been. Just like my mother's, it wasn't there. But, my reflection's hand found his and they intertwined. Grinning at each other, they both leaned in for another kiss.

I smiled. I couldn't help it.

Was this really one of the deepest desires of my heart? And did it really take a mirror for me to figure it out?

An hour passed. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to prepare for my match, which was a first for me. I just wanted to watch the intriguing ghost of the lost, glimmering hope in front of me.

"Miss Flint," came a sharp, Scottish-accented voice from behind me. "I see you've found the Mirror of Erised."

I jumped up and stared at the elderly face of professor McGonagall. I fixed my ruffled clothes, my cheeks turning pink as she looked at me coolly. "Professor. I'm sorry for intruding. I was looking for my broom when-."

"When you found the Mirror," she finished. "Pray tell, what would your broom be doing in here?"

"Someone people hid it," I muttered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Many people have found the mirror before you; it is not uncommon for two or three students every year to come across it, if they are looking hard enough. But I must warn you, spending too much time in front of it will destroy you. As a wise professor once told me, "It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget how to live.""

"I know," I said, turning to look back at the mirror. My family and friends were smiling at me kindly. I was tempted to go back and sit down with them. "I know."

"I trust you already know what the looking glass does, Miss Flint. What you are seeing in the mirror," McGonagall said gently. "It is not the truth. You must understand that."

"Yes, I know," I repeated.

She took a step closer to me, and put a feminine hand on my shoulder. "I know that the image is overbearing. You just want to stand in front of it, and never leave. But wasting away will never earn you your way to the reality of the image. You yourself must do that."

"Are you saying that what I'm seeing in the mirror can be accomplished?" I questioned.

"Not necessarily," she answered honestly. "But the feeling, the emotion and gain you see in the reflection, _that_ can be earned."

Staring up at the tall lady, I asked mindlessly, "What do you see in the mirror, Professor?"

She sighed, and turned to face the mirror. "I see my young self, with the lover I lost long ago."

"I'm so sorry," I said, suddenly ashamed of my question.

Smiling at me, she said, "It's okay. What I see, I know I can never have. So, I put away my childish thoughts and continue to work my way through life. I have enough love to last a full lifetime. But now, I must ask you. What do you see?"

I explained the image I had seen, excluding James Potter. I didn't think that I should include him; it was too private, and I couldn't believe it myself. I had the feeling that she knew I was leaving something out, but she didn't pester me for it. Whether she already knew what it was, or didn't really care all too much, I didn't know.

"Go on your way, Miss Flint," McGonagall said sternly. "Just say you are aware, the mirror will be moved, and you will not find it again. This is the last time you will see it. And, for your information, you will find your broom in the broom closet, on the 2nd floor. It's stuck to the ceiling, if you must know, but I have a feeling you will out-smart Miss Ruthford and Miss Goyle."

**A/N: There you have it! Thanks for reading; please review! This is the last chapter before I leave for France. I won't be back until the end of May, so don't expect an update until perhaps the first week of June. I may update A Stupid Thing Called Love, but other than that, none of the other stories will be updated until then, too. **

**Just so you guys know, I was only planning on going up to 30 chapters with this story, but I might write 35 or around that. Just so you know where I'm going! There might be a sequel, but I'm not entirely sure. I'm going to finish ASTCL before I decide on anything. Thanks again!**


	24. Dancing with Envy Part 1

**Chapter 24**

"A Valentine's Day ball?"

I turned to look up at Potter as he held up a frilly piece of pink paper. "Yeah, that's what it says."

"Great," I snorted. "That's just what I wanted. A night full of giggling, brainless girls in fluffy dresses, and a bunch of fat, naked babies flying around. I hate Valentine's Day. Cheesy, predictable, and it makes me nauseous."

Potter shrugged, looking down the dark corridor with an amused expression on his face. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. Aren't dances fun for girls? They don't have to do any of the work! The guy has to ask them out, and they're expected to pay for her, and then take her out to eat after or something. All of the pressure is on the guys shoulders, all while we're wearing some monkey suit!"

"You don't have to go dress shopping and pay an insane amount of money for the perfect dress, or spend endless hours slaving over your make-up and hair, or get your eyebrows done and shave your legs and arm pits," I said unhappily. "It's fucking painful. Girls are judgmental and unmerciful."

"Touche."

We wandered the halls of Hogwarts together in silence for a while, examining the shadows and glancing out the windows, before James broke it. "Has anyone asked you yet?" he asked casually.

"I didn't even know this dance _existed_ five minutes ago," I snapped, more upset that he hadn't been observant than anything else. "Besides, no one is going to ask me. I'm the laughing stock of the school right now. Everybody's little punching bag."

He pursed his lips, but then decided to change the subject. "Fred's already asked his partner, Iris Greghan," he said thoughtfully, peeking at me from the corner of his eyes.

"Wonderful. Good for Fred," I said sarcastically, not really caring in the slightest bit about who Weasel was taking to this ball.

"Who do you want to go with?"

"Honestly, Potter," I said, swerving around his front to face him, growing tired of his endless questions. "You're worse than a 12 year old girl."

"Well, I do live with one. Learned from the best."

"Yeah, well, I don't even want to go to this stupid dance," I responded, poking him in the chest. "It's going to be lame and the odds are that I'll end up bored and without a date. Like I said before, nobody wants to go with me. Now, stop pestering me about the stupid ball and let's get on with our rounds."

"Alright, alright. Way to crush the spirit," he said grumpily, crossing his arms unhappily like a child.

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, James."

* * *

><p>Taking the damp, stained dish cloth into my hand, I wiped down the table hurriedly and then threw the cloth over my shoulder again. Crystal stood in the corner of the room, flirting with a customer, as usual, leaving all of the dirty work to me. I wasn't too happy about it, but I never complained, because I was terrible at flirting and she was terrible at cleaning.<p>

I was about to jog up the stairs and start cleaning one of the inn rooms when the door rang. Another customer stepped into our small bar. I didn't look up as he took a seat at one of the tables. Fixing myself up and dropping the scuzzy cloth onto the bar counter, I wandered back to the table and took out my notepad.

"Hey, honey. What can I get for you this evening?"

"Hey Rosalie," came the familiar voice.

Jumping back, I stared at him. My heart rate sped up significantly. My mouth opened to reply, but no words came out. I just continued to watch him with eyes the size of dinner plates and a stunned look on my face. The question "How?" somehow choked out.

"You're not really good at covering your tracks," he said pensively. "If it had been anyone else, I'm sure they wouldn't have noticed, but the observant ones like myself could have guessed it. Does McGonagall know you're here?"

Clenching my teeth and swallowing slowly, closing my gaping mouth and gathering what dignity I had left, I said, "Of course she does. The question is, does she know you're here?"

"Of course she doesn't," he said with a quick chuckle. "Anyway, I'll have two Butterbeers; one for me and one for you."

"I have a job, if you haven't caught on fully yet, you numpty," I hissed, terribly unhappy with him. I felt rotten, like he had just uncovered one of my deepest secrets. I felt striped of whatever pride I'd had left after the unfortunate circumstances this year had brought in, and I felt unmasked. How could he respect me ever, now that he saw me working as a bar wench?

"Yes, because the place is just riveting with work." He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Rosalie. It's okay. I'm not going to attack you."

I hurried away from his table, pulling my top up quickly. He must've thought I was a whore now. I mean, I even addressed him as 'honey'. Oh, why did the gods hate me? Sighing at myself, I filled two mugs to the brim with foaming Butterbeer. I ran my hand through my hair as I placed the jugs on the counter in front of the tap.

"Why did it have to be him?" I whispered to myself. Of all people? The only person I wanted to impress since my return to Hogwarts after the holidays, and he was the one who found out.

Bringing the two Butterbeers to his table, I tossed them down and took a seat across from him. "So,_ Louis,_ what do you want to know? I'm sure your just itching to interrogate me."

He shook his head, blonde hair tousled as he smirked gently at me. "I'm not hear to interrogate you. I can understand why you got a job, being disowned and all. I'm not judging you, Rosalie. Actually, quite the opposite. I _admire_ you."

I took a swig of Butterbeer, enjoying the sweet taste of the syrup and the sting of the alcohol. "Admire? Please. I work in a bar, Louis. It's quite degrading."

"You're very humble," he said, pointing his index finger at me. It wasn't accusing, but more like he was trying to bring the spotlight to me. "Nobody else I know has the same level as maturity you do."

Staring into his passionate blue eyes, I sighed wistfully. "Why'd you come tonight? And how the hell did you find out?"

"There's a reason I was sorted into Ravenclaw," he replied, tipping his drink at me before taking a sip. "And I came because it's what friends do, isn't it?"

I choked on my drink. "Friends?"

"Is that a problem?" he wondered, eyebrow raised.

I lingered on the word for a couple moments. Yes, I just seemed to have 'friends' popping out of the woodwork like cockroaches lately. Almost to the point where it was uncomfortable and giving me a claustrophobic sensation. But I didn't bring this up to Louis.

"No, I suppose not," I mumbled, retreating to my Butterbeer. "I've got a question for you, though. Why the hell would you ever want to be my friend? I hardly have anything to offer."

"I just do. I want to be your friend. I like you, Rosalie Flint."

Groaning with frustration, I said to him, "Louis! I don't need friends."

"Don't need them, or don't want them?"

Screwing my eyes shut, an anxious breath hissed out of my mouth. "Okay, okay. Whatever. Be my friend, or don't be my friend." I peeked at him through my squinted eyes. "Is there anything else you want?"

He rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought. But, I knew that he had already decided what he wanted, long before he'd walked into this pub. "Would you like to go to the ball with me?"

"Yes, kind of." The words rolled off of my tongue. I was surprised by the cool tone of my voice as I answered him, and even further surprised by my answer. But I did want to go to the ball with Louis.

"Good." He planted his empty mug on the table. "Here's 4 Sickles for the drinks, and a sickle for a tip. The service was awful."

"Shove it, Blondie."

Louis Weasley was like a breath of fresh air after being surrounded by clouds of smoke for an eternity. I inhaled it deeply, cherishing the taste of the stimulating freshness. As he walked out the door, I could feel my heart rate mellow down and I regained my full senses.

I was going to the Valentine's Day ball with Louis Weasley.

And I was happy about it.

While contemplating my possible, newly discovered insanity, Crystal popped a bubble from behind me, causing me to jump up. "Get your lazy arse back into gear, Princess. I don't care if you're going to a ball. And neither does that customer in the corner."

* * *

><p>"What?" James said, uncrossing his propped legs and bringing them back the ground. "She's going with Louis? Like, our cousin Louis?"<p>

"Is there even another Louis at our school?" Roxanne quipped, bored, spinning a quaffle in her hands. "Yes, of course she's going with our cousin Louis."

"How do you even know that?"

"Word about Rosalie Flint flies around this school quickly," she said.

"The school's only known about the dance for a week, and everyone's already got a date. 'Cept for me," he huffed. "You'd think I could get a date, being Harry Potter's son and all. But it's weird. It's like I don't want a date."

She rolled her eyes. "As much as I enjoy talking about your inner turmoils-."

James waved his hand dismissively. "Forget about it. You're right. It's just stupid."

Roxanne paused, before sitting up. "You know, I think I know what your problem is."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're in love."

He choked on his own spit. Baffled, he squinted at her. "What, are you mad or something? Have you gone loony? Me? In love? Yeah, right. And with whom am I supposedly in love with, dear cousin?"

"You always do this when you know I'm right, and you're wrong."

"Do what? What am I doing?"

"Babbling."

He started to point something out, but he shut his mouth and finished defiantly, "I am not babbling. Not a babbler. Really-."

"For Merlin's sake, just shut the bloody hell up," Roxanne said, tossing the quaffle into the air and catching it. "It's so obvious, James. You're always staring at her, always trying to get her attention, and when she does pay attention to you, you follow her around like a lost puppy." She stopped for a moment, staring up at the corner of the ceiling. "It's really pathetic, actually. I think even McGonagall has noticed."

"I don't know what you're talking about," retorted James. "Or who you're talking about."

"I think you do. I just think you're trying to block it out. Either that, or you're just stupid."

"Thank you for the encouraging words."

"Anytime. Think about it. Really hard. Tell me who you come up with tomorrow. I got to get back to the common room. Siobhan challenged me to a drinking contest."

"But she's Irish."

Roxanne scowled. "Oh, shove it. Everyone thinks that just because she's Irish, she can beat me at a drinking contest. We'll see. I've got a galleon and 5 sickles on this."

"Good luck," James chanted.

"Whatever. See you later, Jamsie." She tossed the quaffle at him carelessly, and he caught it without any effort.

After his cousin left, James jumped up and left the Gryffindor locker rooms, shutting off the lights as he exited. He started for the castle, enjoying the cool, refreshing air the evening had to offer.

James Potter, in love? Never. In fact, James had never even had a crush. Except for when he was nine, and had the smallest crush on Ali Longbottom. But not anymore. He didn't have time for crushes.

"Hey James," came his brother's voice as he entered the medieval castle.

"Think fast!" James threw the quaffle at Albus' face swiftly, but the tall, raven-haired boy caught it as quickly as James had thrown it.

"You are so juvenile," he muttered, throwing the odd-shaped ball back at him elder brother.

"I like it better when it hits your face."

"Of course you do."

They started walking together, not really heading anywhere in particular. "So, little bro," James began, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Have you got a date for the ball, too?"

James and Albus had always been close, closer than most siblings with like ages. They were best friends, in a weird way, and depended on each other for certain things. Though, lately, James had been using Albus as his source of entertainment, and that pissed him off. They were growing up, at James had pointed out months ago. Things were different. Things were changing.

Albus, now the same height as James, stared at his brother and sighed. He didn't want to grow up, and lose the relationship he had with his brother. Not that he would ever share that with the mischievous devil. But with all of these situations getting in between them, it was hard not to begin going down different paths.

"No, not yet," the younger of the two said truthfully. "You?"

"Me neither. But, Kimberly has asked me, several times." James shuddered. "In very... crude ways."

Albus' nose wrinkled. "That's wonderful. Who are you going to ask?"

"As of right now?" Albus nodded. "No one."

His brother's eyebrows shot up and he feigned utter shock. "_The James Sirius Potter_, famous player at Hogwarts, not bringing a date to the Valentine's Day ball? Well, that's just preposterous!"

"You're worse than Roxanne. No, I mean, I don't want to go to the ball. At all."

Albus turned to look at him. "Oh. Well, that's a first. You're usually jumping at the bit for events like this. You get a hot date and set off some uber destructive prank. Fun for everyone." He paused, before saying, "This doesn't have anything to do with Rosalie going with Louis, does it?"

James peeked at him from the corner of his brown eyes, frowning slightly. He was annoyed by his brother's observation. "No."

"Whatever you say, mate. Has she said anything about... you know."

"No. She's pretty adamant about not bringing up. She's more stubborn than a mule," replied James with a slight sneer. "You know, she's starting to get on my nerves. I mean, here we are, practically begging her to come stay the summer at our home and she's refusing us like we're just scum on the bottom of her shoes!"

Albus paused, slightly shocked by the sudden change of emotion. "James, I don't think-."

"Why does she think it's okay just to shove people out of her way? If she thinks she's too good for us, why are we even bothering?"

Even if he wanted to, James couldn't explain the sudden rage that had engulfed him. It ate at him as he felt the flames lick his insides, burn and churn inside of him. Why did he even want to help Rosalie? All she ever did was turn him down. Over and over and over again.

"She's our friend, and she needs help-."

James just rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Albus! We just need to admit to ourselves that she hates us and wants nothing to do with us. We keep trying and trying and we keep getting _rejected_!"

"She's struggling!" Albus said, defending Rosalie. "You're being stupid."

"Am I?" he inquired.

"Rosalie went through hell this year. And you have the audacity to complain? She doesn't want to trust us, James. We just need to be patient, if we really care. Because, in the end, we both care about Rosalie Flint. We've made so much progress," he said. "Don't throw it away now."

"She doesn't seem to have a problem with trusting Louis," James snipped.

The younger Potter brother took a step away from James. "You know what? You're being selfish. If you want to give up, that's fine. But I won't. I'm gonna go now. Just don't do anything stupid, James. Don't do anything you'll regret."

With a scowl etched onto his young face, James prowled away, the flames not dying. They made him feel sick and nasty and dark. He wanted to make them go away, but no matter how hard he tried to quench them, they continued whispering to him. Scorching him.

Meanwhile, Albus stalked towards the library, upset with his brother. He met Scorpius, who was sitting at the table quietly with his messy white hair framing his pallid skin.

"What's wrong?" he instantly asked after seeing Albus' scrunched face.

The dark-haired boy didn't reply at first, before huffing, "It's nothing. James is just being a prick, the usual."

His best friend didn't question him any further. "Well, I've just about finished my essay. What about you? Can we get started on the Defense Against the Dark Arts project?"

"I finished my essay two days ago," Albus answered.

"You little nerd," Scorpius snickered.

Shooting him a dirty look, the other boy said, "Oh, shut it. Just finish your essay so we can get started."

* * *

><p>The days went by too fast. I was starting to regret agreeing to go with Louis to the ball, but nothing I told myself could force me to bail. So now, I was standing in front of the mirror, wearing an older dress that I had charmed pink and added black lace to. Yes, being a witch had its perks. I had a totally new dress, just paying about a galleon for.<p>

Fixing my hair into a low but formal chignon, I pinned the remaining, straggling locks of hair up. My make-up wasn't much, very light but elegant. I wore a simple pair of silver studs in my ears.

I wanted to impress Louis, very badly. But I didn't want to come off as desperate, so I toned it down a bit.

Finding my way to the Great Hall entrance, I stood still, waiting for Louis to come into sight. People stared at me as they walked by, their judging eyes watching me. I ignored them as best as I could.

Someone tapped my shoulder, and I expected to find Louis. Instead, I found someone else.

"You look very pretty," Kate whispered to me, the sound of her voice unnatural and off beat. The syllables were either mushed together or awkwardly separated.

Not minding her strange tongue, I smiled. "But not as beautiful as you."

Her light brown hair had been curled to perfection, cascading to her shoulders. Her dress with a gentle shade of red, like a rose petal, and the hem just barely touched the ground. Her innocent blue eyes weren't caked with make-up, as most of the girls would look like at the ball. Instead, she went to the dance with her natural beauty, and I envied her for a brief moment, before returning to only admiring her. Her wore a pair of silver hoops in her ears and a locket around her neck.

Kate Levesque was beautiful.

I voiced my thoughts, and she blushed, shaking her head modestly.

"Don't be like that," I said kindly, but I emphasized the words so she could definitely understand. "Jared is lucky to be taking you."

The taller boy next to her flushed red.

Even after our rocky, first encounter, Kate had become a good acquaintance, along with her fiery friend Jared. I had grown to respect them in ways I had never thought I could respect a Hufflepuff. They were kind and very loyal, but also smart and quick-witted.

For the first time, I realized I was honored to be their friend, not the other way around.

"So, are you waiting for someone?" Jared asked, clearing his throat.

"Actually," I said, my attention perked. "I am. Can you believe it? Someone decent actually asked me."

"_Actually_," Jared replied, mocking me. "I can. See you inside." He took Kate's hand sweetly and walked her into the Great Hall. As the door opened, I heard the sound of beautiful music waver through the empty corridor I was standing in.

Bouncing on my toes, I found myself feeling suddenly nervous. I looked at couples and friends as they passed, becoming less noticeable as they became more engulfed in the mood of the evening. I played with my fingers gently until a voice crept up on me.

"Stunning, as usual."

I grinned and turned around, smirking at Louis. "And I guess you don't look so bad yourself."

**(To Be Continued)**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! This might be the first half of one of the most important parts of this story, so be excited for the next chapter! Hope you guys enjoyed this, and please leave a review! I'm up for any opinions, criticism, remarks, ideas, anything! Thanks for being so terribly patient with me :)**


	25. Dancing with Envy Part 2

_"A Valentine's Day ball?"_

_I turned to look up at Potter as he held up a frilly piece of pink paper. "Yeah, that's what it says."_

_~vVv~_

_Roxanne paused, before sitting up. "You know, I think I know what your problem is."_

_"Really?" James asked._

_"Yeah, you're in love."_

_~vVv~_

_Bouncing on my toes, I found myself feeling suddenly nervous. I looked at couples and friends as they passed, becoming less noticeable as they became more engulfed in the mood of the evening. I played with my fingers gently until a voice crept up on me._

_"Stunning, as usual."_

_I grinned and turned around, smirking at Louis. "And I guess you don't look so bad yourself."_

**Chapter 24 (Part Two)**

Taking off my heel, I threw it at James with accurate aim. It thunked against his back and he turned to face me. "You know what? You just ruin everything! I was having so much fun! Why couldn't you just let me have fun for one night? One night!"

His nostrils flared as he retorted, "I'm so sorry for ruining your perfect evening with Prince Charming!"

"Stop being such a git!" I yelled, not even realizing that tears were leaking from my eyes until I wiped one away, my make-up now drizzling down my face and smearing everywhere.

The corridor was dark and a cold draft lingered, but it didn't seem to me to be cool. My face was burning as I glared at him with teary eyes, somewhat ashamed of my emotional reaction, but not enough to hide it.

James either didn't notice me crying, or he blatantly ignored it. "Well, you should really stop acting like a princess!"

"Princess? I'm not acting like a princess!" I hollered.

He snorted. "You walk around the school like your fucking royalty! Like you own all of us!"

I was horrified by his accusations. How could he think that about me? Royalty? I felt like scum, like a dirty wad of gum stuck on the bottom of someone's shoe.

The words struck me harder than I thought they would. My temper flared defensively, despite the sting of his blow. "Do you even hear yourself?"

That yanked a rope. His face contorted in an anger I didn't know he was capable of holding. "All I've done this year is try to help you, and all you've done is ignored and rejected me like I wasn't worth it. I wasn't worth you! And you know what? You're just a bitch!"

The coldness of his words confirmed the reality.

Everyone I've ever known has called me that terrible word. I deserved it, in many situations, I won't deny that. But hearing the word roll off James' tongue broke a piece of me that couldn't be reattached, no matter how many spells you cast.

James, the one person I had always subconsciously leaned on for support this year, despite our rivalry. The one who had cheered me up, despite my denial, when I was down. The one who had helped me rebel against my parents ways, despite our differences. He had officially turned against me.

My facial expression shattered. Pure agony hit me like the Whomping Willow had taken a swing at me with one of its colossal branches.

I was completely alone now. No number of Louises could fill the gap that James Potter had been filling this year. I could refuse to accept the facts before, but now it was impossible. With the threat of James hating me, I was forced to accept them.

"If you really feel that way," I choked, but I couldn't finish the sentence.

By the way he looked at me, he really seemed like he wanted to just stomp away. But his brown eyes flickered between me and the opposite direction, like he couldn't decide.

Was I really that terrible?

And there I had been, thinking that everything I was doing was good. Right. I had left my family, my friends, my ways. I thought I had changed.

But, in a way I suppose, I would always be a bitch to James. I couldn't blame him, I guess.

"Rosalie," he said, trying to back track. He sounded distraught and torn.

"_Do_ you really feel that way?" I asked quietly.

Brokenly.

"I'm just... I can't..." He ran his hands through his messy brown hair.

* * *

><p><strong>[One hour earlier]<strong>

"May I have this dance?" Louis asked Rosalie, waggling his eyebrows jokingly.

She stuck out her pale and dainty hand, snickering at his cheesy attempt at flirting. "Well, of course."

He lead her out to the center of the floor, gliding through the crowds of students, and started dancing to some cheesy love song by some muggle band.

James crushed his cup in his hand without noticing it, until the liquid spilled all over his outfit and onto the floor. "Shit," he cursed, whipping out his wand and cleaning it up instantaneously.

"What's pissed you off?" Fred asked as he approached him with Iris hanging off of his shoulder. The pretty, blonde Hufflepuff was wearing a short, smoldering black dress and lots of red and pink jewelry, but James couldn't even be bothered to check her out.

"Nothing," James muttered through gritted teeth.

"I just watched you crush a cup of punch in your hand. People don't do that when they're happy," he commented, bemused.

"Just drop it," he growled.

Fred lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Come on, babe. Let's go dance." They wandered into the crowd, dancing together, crushed by the overwhelming amount of students around them. Seeing how tightly they were pressed together, James wondered if Louis and Rosalie were positioned like that, too.

It made his blood pump hotly.

The never-ending flame licked his insides, and nothing he did could stop it. She was on his mind.

All of the time.

He kept thinking horrible things about her, things he wouldn't normally think about Rosalie Flint. Things that he wouldn't normally think of anybody. Terrible thoughts. Even when he tried to suppress them, they came back, taunting him, agitating him.

He dug deeply, trying to find the source of these overbearing thoughts that he was submerged in. They had to have started somewhere, right?

Maybe James had just snapped. Maybe they had been there all along, buried. He didn't know.

Catching a glimpse of her dress, he grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and went for another cup of punch.

He hated her for having such an effect on him. Why did she make him feel this way? How? It didn't make sense to him. The sudden turn of emotions he felt towards her wasn't natural. But he couldn't explain it.

Rosalie Flint.

She made his heart jump, his gut flare, his eyes pop. She drove him crazy. Why?

His eyes trailed her as Louis left her, presumably for the restrooms, and she exited the dance floor. Other eyes followed her, until she bumped into Matthias Avery.

James couldn't bring himself to intervene as they shared a heated exchange. Of course, nothing went down, as they were surrounded by other students. She stalked away from him and he unhappily clenched his jaw, tugging his new victim, Cassandra Sinclair, away with him.

She conversed with two Hufflepuffs, Kaitlyn and Jason, something like that. They used sign language, indicating that one of the two Hufflepuffs were deaf.

She bumped into Slughorn, who was chaperoning the event, and shared some comments with him civilly, compared to her talk with Avery.

"What, are you stalking her now?" came a fresh voice from James' side.

Rose looked up at him, eyebrows risen and suspicious.

"No," James answered plainly.

"Don't you have a date?" she asked, pouring herself some punch.

"No."

"So you're just going to stand here all night, glaring at Rosalie Flint?"

"No."

"Is that the only word you know?"

"No."

Rose rolled her light blue eyes. "You're a basket case, you know that?"

"How so?" James questioned, finally facing his cousin, tearing his judgmental gaze from Rosalie.

"You've been standing at the punch table all not staring at Rosalie!" she squealed unhappily, throwing out her empty hand for good measure. "You're crazy or something."

"I'm not crazy!" he denied.

"Why are you mad at her?"

"Is it that obvious?" He winced inwardly.

Rose nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it is. Anyone can see it, if they're observant enough. So, why exactly are you mad at her? Did you two get into a fight or something during your rounds?"

"Not exactly." In fact, there was no valid reason for James to be so angry with Rosalie. He just was. And he couldn't put that into words for his cousin. So, instead, he continued with, "I'd rather not talk about it."

After an hour of straggling, James finally approached Louis and Rosalie. He tried to be friendly, he really did. But nothing could hide his bitterness. Fortunately for him, Rosalie was oblivious to his unhappiness. Why didn't that surprise him?

"Hey!" she said, in a very good mood. Her tone was light and gentle, which was rare for the independent Slytherin, especially towards James. She was usually pissed with him.

His stomach erupted into white-hot flames again. Louis could put her in that mood, but he couldn't?

"Hi."

"Hey cousin," Louis said amicably.

James replied stiffly, "Louis."

He didn't catch the cold undertone in his voice. "Where's your date?"

"I didn't bring one."

"Really?" Louis laughed. "I don't believe it!"

"The girl I wanted to bring was taken," he answered before he could stop himself. Risking a glance at Rosalie, his eyes flickered to her. She was watching him carefully, her own hazel ones skeptical.

She was always skeptical of him.

"Who's the lucky girl?" Louis persisted.

"It doesn't matter. I have to go," he said, escaping into the crowd of teenagers suddenly and unexpectedly.

Rosalie looked at Louis briefly, before saying, "I'll be right back."

* * *

><p>"Hey, are you alright?"<p>

My voice echoed in the hall, rebounding off the high ceiling. My shoes clicked on the floor as I followed James into the darkness, far away from the Great Hall and towards the moving staircases.

"No."

"Tell me what's wrong," I pestered.

He stopped walking, and he blew out a hot breath of air. "Alright, I'll tell you what's wrong. You're what's wrong!"

My brows gathered in confusion, not understanding what he meant. "Excuse me?"

"You just frolic around, pushing everyone like their a piece of your chess game!"

His anger didn't make sense to me. "I don't get it," I said, dumbfounded.

_And that's how we got to our current situation. And now, we're staring at each other heatedly, not knowing what to say._

Tears slipped down my cheeks and landed on my dress, surely staining it. He looked at me with glazed brown eyes as he tried to form words with his lips, but no words came out.

"I didn't know," I said truthfully, my voice cracking.

James groaned in frustration and punched the air. "I don't know what's wrong with me!"

Not knowing how to respond to that, I waited for him to continue.

"I wasn't angry at you before! I wasn't! And then, I was!"

"That doesn't make sense," I pointed out, wiping my eyes but listening intently, the pain still searing from his words.

"I know!" he yelled. "But, I felt... I feel... it's so wrong and weird and twisted and indescribable! There's this flame, inside of me, and every time I see you, it's like it grows. And finally, it's just taken over!" His eyes were wide, and he was staring at me. "It doesn't make sense."

As James took a tentative step towards me, I resisted from recoiling, allowing him to come closer. He was still a good couple yards away from me.

"You just drive me mad."

"Well, if I drive you mad, maybe we shouldn't be near each other anymore."

"No, you don't get it!"

"You can't honestly expect me to get it!"

"And then Louis came into the picture," he continued. "And it hurt. So much."

It still wasn't any clearer for me.

"What does Louis have to do with anything?" I asked loudly, squinting my eyes at him.

"Everything!" he snapped. "Louis has to do with everything!"

I refrained from retorting back at him. "I still don't understand!" I grumbled. "James, you're not making any sense!"

"You're not getting it!" he huffed, exasperated.

"You've already stated that," I replied, hugging myself in an effort to keep myself together. The conversation was going by in blur, and I wasn't catching anything.

"You're so difficult!"

"You know what, if you're just going to spend the rest of the evening insulting me, I'd rather not stick around." I picked up my shoe, which was lying sadly on the ground, by itself. I clutched my stomach, the pit of it feeling empty and hallow. I turned to go, my back facing James.

His hands grabbed my shoulders from behind, and before I could respond, his lips came angrily crashing into mine.

A million thoughts sloshed around in my head, but I couldn't form a single cognizant one. I felt a million different emotions, but none of them registered. A million words could have described the feeling, but none of them fit the gap.

I didn't react at first. He withdrew from the kiss, brown eyes staring straight through me, into my soul. "I was jealous," he finally admitted.

* * *

><p>As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew them to be true.<p>

He was never angry with Rosalie. Not really. It was jealousy, and envy, just covered by a cloud of confusion. James just didn't know how to deal with it. He thought the sensation was anger at first. It was close enough. And it kept growing and growing...

And then he kissed her.

And it dawned on him.

She stared up at him, her lips forming an 'O' shape. He was so sure she was going to start yelling at him. He was stupid for kissing her. Stupid for yelling at her.

But suddenly, her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

It was rough and aggressive. Their lips wrestled for dominance as his large hands gripped her small waist, bringing her closer to him. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, molded together like clay. Their teeth clashed and their mouths wandered. Her neck, her cheeks, her lips. They were so soft, so enticing.

Her long fingers stroked his chest and then she ran them through his hair. He made a growling noise in the back of his throat. She grinned into his lips at the tiny action that caused him so much pleasure.

They finally broke for air and their foreheads rested of them spoke for a second, their eyes shut and their breathing heavy.

Finally, she said quietly, "Well, I'm fucked."

"What do you mean?"

"What am I going to tell my date?"

**A/N: BAM! Bet you guys didn't see that one! Aha!**

**Please tell me what you think, okay? Did you guys get lost at all? Did I move too fast? Any comments and criticism are accepted and welcomed! **

**I hope I didn't confuse you guys with James' sudden change of emotion. I wanted to to be like Louis' appearance sparked the jealousy instantaneously until the point where it was uncontrollable.**

**Sorry that Part Two is shorter than the first part. Originally, it was supposed to be one update, but I hadn't posted a chapter in a long time, and it was taking a while to type up, hence the two parts. **

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews! We just recently passed the 100 review mark, which I have NEVER DONE BEFORE and I was extremely stoked about it! You guys are so amazing, and thank you so much for supporting this story! I hope you guys are happy with this chapter; I am! **

**There's still a lot more coming up, so be prepared!**

**Much love! Please review!**


	26. A Chapter By Mariette

**A Chapter By Mariette**

"If this buldger hits Albus, he'll be out for the rest of game and Gryffindor will be- What's this? It looks like Flint is trying to get in between the buldger and Albus! She's trying to take the hit for their star Seeker!"

It was happening all too fast. I listened to Siobhan Finnegan's voice with horror as the speeding buldger chased after Albus Potter. Rosalie was flying towards him with equal speed and then a disgusting crack rang out. My sister plummeted towards the ground, the bloody already visible as she crashed onto the turf, her body broken.

Standing with terror, I looked over the side of the stands, jumping from my seat and down towards the ground. "Get out of my way!" I snarled at a second year, rushing onto the field and to my unconscious sister's side.

When I saw all of the blood, the awkwardly bent limbs, and the ribs sticking out, I couldn't help it. My breakfast came up and I puked all over the ground. Someone led me away, and I couldn't resist.

She looked so fragile and hurt, but nothing I could do would help her. In my peripheral vision, I saw James Potter carrying her towards the infirmary, and all I could feel was gratitude.

* * *

><p>She walked into the room with her arm in Matthias', wearing an absolutely dazzling dress. She was beautiful beyond belief, in her crimson attire.<p>

But, of course, I would never admit this to her face.

Rosalie didn't look happy, though. There was a dead spark in her eyes, and a frown on her plump lips. She gazed around the room, like she was looking for an escape. She seemed trapped.

I didn't know what to do. She was with her hunky boyfriend, and she was gorgeous. What was there to be unhappy about? I didn't pay much attention to her after her entrance, only when she became the star of a commotion.

James Potter and Matthias Avery, facing off in an inconspicuous manner. Rosalie looked distraught, uneasy, as she tried to force James away from Matthias. All I could do was observe as they broke into a heated conversation.

And then Rosalie was being stolen by Molly Weasley, and left a fuming Matthias alone in the middle of a party.

What was going on? What had my sister gotten herself involved in?

* * *

><p>"How was the train ride?" Father's cold voice rang out, his dark eyes meeting mine, and then Rosalie's.<p>

I responded quietly, saying, "It was fine. Not one problem."

"That's nice to hear."

Silence ensued for a brief, awkward moment. All that could be heard was the clinking over silverware against plates. Then, Father inquired, "How have your Prefect duties been coming along?"

I know he's talking to Rosalie, because I had been rejected. But perfect Rosalie, of course, was a Prefect. Of course she would be.

"Perfectly fine," she replied.

"Wonderful."

"How about your Quidditch team?" Marcus asked, taking a bite of his food.

As they conversed about her Prefect duties and her Quidditch team, I became enraged. I had nothing to offer them as they praised Rosalie and her accomplishments. Was I a failure in their eyes? Surely they were interested in something I'd done! I was a straight O student, wasn't that enough?

Mother brings up Matthias, and I am tempted to tell her about the rumors at school. Surely they would destroy my sister, annihilate her right then and there. Maybe then I would be their perfect daughter.

But as enticing as it sounded, I refrained from spilling. Because getting caught in her affairs would surely burn me, too. So I took a bite of food, keeping my mouth busy as my opportunity passed.

* * *

><p>We were kissing. It was forbidden, but we were kissing. And for once, I felt truly happy.<p>

Until the bliss was broken by the sound of my sister's alarmed voice.

"Um, I'd hate to break up the love fest, but can I ask what's going on here?"

Before I could say anything, Sophie was speaking to Rosalie. "So, you're the famous Rosalie Flint, huh? My name is Sophie Goulding."

"You know who I am," Rosalie hissed, and I winced at the harshness in her voice. "And I know who you are. And like I said before, what the hell is going on here? How long has this been going on?"

"Since sixth year," I replied, honest.

"Okay." She paused, obviously conflicted. Finally, she admitted, "I don't really know what to do."

"Please, don't tell Mother and Father." I was grovelling, and I was pathetic. But I didn't really care; my life would end if Mother and Father ever found out.

"I'm not that low!" she snapped. "I just don't know how to react. I don't know how to feel."

"Be happy for me," I requested quietly. "For us."

"And when have you ever been happy for me, Mariette?"

Her tone was cold, and it sent shivers down my spine. Her words were true. I was always jealous, envious, angry, upset, indifferent... but never happy for my sister. I looked down at my hands, slightly pink with shame.

"This stays a secret. At least, for now it does. But you'd be a fool if you began to think I would just forget."

And then she was gone, back into the shadows of our home, and I was left alone with Sophie again, who's watching me like a bomb that's about to explode.

* * *

><p>"So, are you saying that you agreed to testify against Dolohov? In court?" Father bellowed angrily at my younger sister.<p>

"Of course I did!" she retorted bravely, her voice rising.

She's deplorable for her actions, but I can't help and feel jealous of her. Why does she get all of the attention?

"He was using the Cruciatus Curse on Lily Potter, and he's a wanted criminal! He needs to be locked up in Azkaban!" she finished.

"You should've consulted with your mother and I first!" Father scowled.

Rosalie sniffed, "You would have said no." She crossed her arms defiantly.

Wrapping myself in my blanket tighter, I tucked my feet into the love seat's cushions. I watched as Marcus tried to calm Father down, but he couldn't control him, and Father started yelling at Rosalie again.

"You should have let Dolohov finish her off."

Even I was shocked by Father's comment. Lily was a Potter, but she didn't deserve a death brought by the Cruciatus Curse.

"What?" she shouted. "Lily Potter did not deserve to die by his filthy hand! I would have never let that happened!"

"Do not talk back! Your foolish acts make this family a target!"

She yelled, "No; they make me a target! It's not like any of you care anyway!"

"The Potters are notorious blood traitors!" he said angrily. "You've tainted the family's name!"

"You're just afraid that you'll be ridiculed by your pathetic, pure-blooded maniac friends and are trying to save your sorry asses-"

And then there was a loud slap. Father's hand connected with Rosalie's cheek and she was thrown to the floor by the impact. Immediately, her cheek began bleeding and turned red. She brought her fingers to her face, and touched the trickling blood, wiping it away.

"I'm leaving. I can't stand you dimwitted, insolent fools," she told them irately. "I'm going to walk out that door and I'm not going to come back for a long time. I'm going to testify against Antonin Dolohov. And you are not going to stop me."

"If you walk out of that door, Rosalie, we will not allow you back in! We will disowned you!" Father barked.

"See if I care."

And then she was gone. Disowned, no longer my family.

All of my jealous and envious thoughts vanished with her, and I began to feel sad. We had our differences, but hard-working Rosalie didn't deserve to be excommunicated, just for doing what was right.

I sat in my room for hours, considering standing up to Father, too. But I couldn't, and I didn't, and I hated myself for it.

* * *

><p>"Rosalie! Rosalie! Rose-!"<p>

"I heard you the bleeding first time, Mariette," she screeched angrily at me, and she had every right. After watching her lose her concentration and then fall into a pile of mud, it was hard to misunderstand her.

"We need to talk," I said, approaching her carefully.

"About what?"

"About what you saw, last week."

"Lily Potter?"

"No, me and Sophie." I caught myself hissing at her in frustration, and I tried to tone down my bitterness just a bit.

She scoffed, "You've got to be bloody kidding me! Well?"

"I want you to swear that you won't tell anyone." My reputation was on the line, and it couldn't be risked. I liked Sophie a lot, but I couldn't lose everything over one silly mistake, and it would be humiliating if everyone found out from my disowned sister.

"I can't believe this," she said. "After everything that I've been through: witnessing a little girl under the Cruciatus Curse, being responsible for the arrest of a wanted Death Eater, being disowned by my own family and sent to live on the streets... and you come to me so you can save your own bloody arse?"

Impatiently, I started, "I'm sorry about what happened to you-."

"No you're not!"

Her scream echoed within the pitch, and I took a step back in alarm, shocked by the anger and loudness of her voice.

"I don't understand it. You were my older sister, my big sister. You were supposed to protect me from the evils of the world, but instead you grew up hating me, your little sister. When I was young, I wanted to be just like you, Mariette, until I realized what a cruel, selfish bitch you were. But I guess, in a way, I ended up just the same anyhow."

My stomach began to twist as I listened to her, once my baby sister, fall apart in front of me. She wanted to be like me, and then she became exactly like me. And she hated it. She hated me, and she hated herself.

"How do you feel?" she continued. "Seeing me like this. Are you satisfied now? I'm broken into a billion pieces, cast away from the family, hated by everyone; are you finally happy? Are your miseries gone? Gone with me?"

"Don't be like this," I said, for a lack of better words to say. I tried to reach out and touch her shoulder, but she recoiled away from me. It stung like a slap on the face.

"You think that your secret is horrible? Well, get a fat load of this: Matthias fucking hit me. And then he tried to rape me."

It left her mouth quickly, and I had a hard time comprehending it. And then it hit me, like a freight train going at full speed, and I felt like doubling over. Rape? He tried to rape her? And I didn't know, I didn't do anything. How could I have? I didn't know! But the guilt, and the shame of being so utterly selfish, settled onto my shoulders like two ton boulders.

"That's right," she said poisonously. "He hit me, he bit me, he touched me, and he finally tried to rape me. I wanted to tell someone, but I couldn't. I was afraid that... gods, I can't even say it! That _Mother and Father_ would drop me like that. Disown me for being a disgrace. But I'm not afraid anymore! And now you know the truth. And you know who was there for me, when you weren't?" I said, watching her eyes grow sadder and her frown deeper. "James fucking Potter. My supposed arch-rival."

She was crying, and she thought I didn't see her tears. But I did. And now I was crying, too, and it was uncontrollable. As she ranted, pain tweaked inside of me with each blow she delivered. It was horrid and excruciating and I couldn't stop it.

"I didn't know," was all I could manage.

"Of course you didn't know! You never gave a shit about me!"

She was right. What she said was true. I had never cared about her, just like the rest of my family. And it would be my biggest regret for the rest of my life.

"I'm sorry." I tried to pack as much emotion as I could into those two words.

"Sorry will never be enough for the pain you and _your_ family caused me. And remember this, Mariette: You secret will never be safe with me. I will never forget it and if you try to talk to me again, you will be the first person to hear me shout it to the world."

She left me alone with my tears and my torn, shredded heart. I ached for her. And I hated myself for being so cruel to my own flesh and bood.

* * *

><p>I couldn't see their faces, but I knew who they were. I mean, just because she changed the color of the dress, did she think that nobody would recognize it?<p>

Then I realized that she probably didn't have enough money to purchase a dress, and the snide remark was lost to me.

Yes, my sister - or ex-sister - was snogging James Potter.

I should have been disgusted, enraged, and upset. But instead, I felt indifferent. I mean, what had she done when she found me with Sophie? No, she hadn't been happy, but she hadn't told.

But by this point, she wouldn't have cared if I told Mother or Father. She might have even felt smug. She was totally snubbing their life style, and I felt jealous of her courage. She had the ability to do what I could never do, no matter how I felt about my life.

Rosalie was always to brave one, no doubt about that. She was stubborn, strong-willed, and loyal to her heart. It took her a while to figure it out, but she did, in the end.

In the shadows, they would never see me. But I felt invasive, so I turned around and let them be.

It was the least I owed her.

Rosalie and I hadn't spoken since our argument at the Quidditch pitch. It felt like a lifetime ago, even though in reality, it had been only two months. She had changed since Christmas, even if she refused to admit it. She wasn't popular or controlling anymore, but rather an idol that couldn't be touched. She didn't see it, but I did. I saw everything, everything that was in her blind spot. The way they watched her, the way they studied her.

At first, it was actually just me and sometimes Sophie. But the rebellious Rosalie had caught the attention of every Slytherin by the end of January, and they admired her. Yes, she was refusing their way of life, but her ambition was intriguing.

Being disowned, spending time with Gryffindors, keeping her own in a world that was expensive... she was remarkable.

She used to be special and noticed, but in a different way. The way that Georgiana and Veronique were noticed, it wasn't as appealing as the new Rosalie. They new it too, and they hated her for it. She was still different from everyone else, just not like before. Rosalie was stealing the spotlight without even trying, and it infuriated Georgiana, Veronique, and especially Matthias.

That disgusting oaf. I saw him, staring at my sister, or perhaps glaring is a better word. But even that doesn't cover it. He's leveling her up, deciding where he wants to strike first. It's sickening, but I have a feeling he won't get far with her. Rosalie wasn't popular anymore, but she was powerful. And that _was_ a whole different level.

Not only was she friends (or maybe more than friends now) with the Potters and Louis Weasley, but she had befriended two Hufflepuffs. She was big in every house, and that wasn't a feat easy to manage. No one was that big at Hogwarts, but she was.

She had it all, without having anything.

Leaving our family was the best thing she could have done. When she broke away, she claimed a power that none of us had. And everyone knew it now.

Besides her, naturally.

I found Sophie in the ballroom and grinned at her. She took my hand and held it inconspicuously, smiling back at me, and gods, she was beautiful.

"Hey, Mariette," she chirped, batting her gorgeous eyes at me.

I had it bad. Really bad. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest, but I was floating with happiness. I was also nervous, but I swallowed it and gripped her hand tightly.

"Hey, Sophie." Her name felt tangy on my tongue.

We hung out for a while, but escaped the cheesy clutches of the ball soon. She giggled as she led me away from the lights, into the darkness that the corridors offered. She pulled me into a closet, and locked the door, and then her lips were on mine.

I was snogging the most perfect girl at school, and it was amazing, and I never wanted to stop.

But in the end, I had to. Because I wasn't Rosalie, and I couldn't fight for myself and the ones I truly loved. Maybe someday, but not now.

I wanted to brave, but I was really a coward.

* * *

><p>On Monday morning, Rosalie sat by herself at the Slytherin table, staring at the back of James Potter's head. Obviously, they weren't on good terms, like they were Saturday evening. The worst thing is that I knew he was aware of Rosalie's eyes, but he wouldn't acknowledge her.<p>

She looked lost and grim, but even then I couldn't picture her as vulnerable. She was such a strong character, and after knowing her all of my life, she would never be just a lovesick teenage girl.

In the corner of my eyes, I saw Blake Zabini, and he was watching Rosalie. He would do that frequently. Watch her from a distance. I think, in the end, he really did care about her. He just wasn't ready to risk it for everything. Whether they would ever be friends again or not, I didn't know. That was up to them, I supposed.

Rosalie was hard and like a rock, but only with her friends. Her newer friends. She was lucky; she broke away, left her old and abusive life behind.

She left me behind.

Someday, I would make it right with her. I would thank her, for never telling my secrets. I would apologize, for being a blind fool. I would hug her, and hold her together for her sake and my sake. She deserved it, at least. My conscience was left dirty and guilty as she stood from her spot at the table, a longing look in her eyes, but I didn't know if I was ready, and she probably would never be ready.

Yes, I would do all of those things. But on top of all of it, I would tell her that I loved her. Because I was her sister, and that was what sisters did.

We had our differences. In fact, we were just different. We would never be the same, and we would never have a sturdy relationship.

I used to be jealous of Rosalie. For her beauty, for her intelligence, for her ambition and for her popularity. But now, I only envied her courage and bravery.

And when it came to it, I just admired her.

**A/N: I felt like I needed to have a chapter from Mariette's point of view. **

**It's kind of strange, now that I look at it. I was hoping you would see how much Mariette's character has developed, alongside Rosalie's. **

**Tell me what you think! I spent all night working on this, because I wanted to make sure I had it up for you guys. That's how much I love you. **

**Thanks!**


	27. Seven Devils

**A/N: Can I just say that I just realized that every chapter title has differed from the one before it? It keeps changing! Sometimes I mention the name of the chapter, sometimes I don't, sometimes I don't put anything at all! That is very unintentional, by the way. I'm going to try to keep it the same from now on. I'm a retard, I know I know. **

**I dedicate this chapter to blanimal, for giving me very real critique and I'm very thankful for that. I also dedicate this chapter to emme019, a fellow HP and HG fan, who motivated me to start writing this chapter. Go check out her stories! Thank you guys for all of your support!**

**This chapter is named after a Florence + the Machine song. Go listen to it. Love that lady!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26 - Seven Devils<strong>

"James, why are you doing this?"

His arms were crossed as he strode down the corridors blankly. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were thin, and I really just wanted to punch him right them and there. "Because it was stupid."

"No, it wasn't," I countered snidely, my tone contradicting my words. "Just admit it. You kissed me!"

"And you kissed me back!" he retorted, as if that was where the problem was. He kissed me first; isn't that a sign or something that he wanted me to kiss him back?

I wrinkled my nose. "Is that a problem?"

"Yeah, it is! I can think of a million reasons why that's a problem, Rosalie," he snapped.

I didn't want to ask the question bubbling in my throat. But before I knew it, it had crept out of my mouth and broke the tension and silence that had grown between us.

"And what are those reasons?" I inquired testily, eyebrows raised, almost challenging him.

James stopped. Looking at me with deep brown eyes, he said, "Well, for starters, we used to be enemies. We used to hate each other. We're rivals, we're opponents, we're opposites, and you are a cold-hearted Slytherin, and I am a Gryffindor! Are those reasons good enough for you?"

My fists were balled and my palms were starting to sweat. "Well, if you want to be that way, _Potter_."

He flinched visibly at the use of his last name, but he turned up his nose at me. "Whatever,_ Flint_."

My fist collided with his chest, and I refrained from screaming out in pain. His chest was fucking hard, for Merlin's sake. The only satisfaction I got out of it was my punch seemed to hurt him, too, so I kept hushed.

So many emotions flickered over his face: hurt, anger, surprise, and multiple others. But he settled for a cold, hard expression and it left me feeling less proud of myself.

Not being able to bear him, I turned on my heel, and left him alone.

Rule Number One of Prefect rounds is to never separate from your partner. But I couldn't bring myself to be anywhere near him. I despised him and his cowardly character.

I also felt slightly hurt that he refused to acknowledge our... well, you know. I mean, he was the first person I felt anything towards outside of Matthias, and it felt pretty damn good.

But I understood. In a sick, twisted way, I understood. He'd come around, or at least I hoped.

My throat felt raw and my head was starting to pound, but I would not cry. I would not cry over someone as silly as James Potter.

* * *

><p>I looked down at the sheet of paper, absolutely appalled. My eyes were the size of dinner plates as recognition set in. But I had never seen one on my work before. It turned my insides out and made me feel like bugs were crawling all over my skin. The sensation was despicable.<p>

"Professor Binns," I said to the ghostly professor, approaching him as soon as every other student had left the classroom. "I think you've made a mistake. You gave me a D on my essay."

He looked to me with pallid, scrutinizing eyes. His voice was slow, low, and hallow, and he drawled every syllable. "No, Miss Flint, I didn't make a mistake."

"But I've never gotten a D before," I said, not letting the reality set in. I kept thinking that if maybe I argued a little more, he would realize that he'd made a mistake.

"Well, now you have." He gave me a petty smirk.

I took a deep breath. "I don't understand."

"Miss Flint," he said, now slightly annoyed. "You failed your essay. Flunked. It was horrid; I considered feeding it to Hagrid's new pet. It doesn't mind eating garbage."

Ignoring his terrible insults, I continued, "How? I've never failed before!"

"Well, you've spent so much time changing your fate and all," Professor Binns huffed dramatically, his voice hinted with sarcasm. "That you haven't saved much time for studying, have you?"

Clenching my jaw, I asked him seriously, "What can I do about my grade?"

"Nothing but exceed at the rest of the term's assignments," he responded. "Wouldn't want to tarnish those golden grades of yours, would we?"

With a terribly unhappy grimace, I walked out of the classroom without another word. My insides, which had previously been turned inside out, had now completely turned to mush. With a clenched jaw and angry, balled fists, I turned towards the Slytherin dormitories, bumping someone's shoulder in the process. I didn't even turn to apologize as I continued on my path.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean Galloway got into a fight with our<em> stand-in keeper<em>?" I hollered angrily, arms hanging by my sides with balled fists. They had been balled so many times that week that my nails had actually indented the flesh on my hands.

"We mean," Corrin Vandevort commented snidely. "That both Galloway and the stand-in are in the infirmary with multiple injuries, and we need a new keeper by tomorrow." Her blonde hair was framing her face, sticking to the back of her neck from the humidity outside. Her eyes were as thin as slits as she stared at me with hostility.

About to make a retort, I was interrupted when Roland added, "We did try to tell you, but you were too busy doing stuff with your boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend," I snapped, my face contorted with absolute rage.

"Oops, sorry, I meant Potter."

Frustrated, I brought a hand to my head, blocking out the light from my vision. I had an awful migraine. First James, then my school work, now this. I didn't think I could handle anymore. I was sinking in what felt like a deep pool of molasses.

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Corrin asked snarkily from her chair, her feet hanging over one of the arms. Her silky hair was tied in a ponytail, and her judging eyes were piercing through me as I found an answer.

Giving her a cold glare, I said, "I need to find another keeper by the match tomorrow."

"Potter's got his own game to play," she remarked.

"I'm not going to ask bloody Potter! Shut your fat, ugly trap, would you?"

She pointed at me. "That's the anger we need to win the House Cup, Captain. Not this lovey dovey attitude you've had for the past month." Then, she shoved past me as she left our meeting, bumping our shoulders on purpose.

I did nothing to respond to her, but instead I stood with my mouth agape. My skin felt like it was blistering. I was irate.

Everybody nodded in approval before leaving, following Corrin's footsteps. This angered me further. The only one who remained behind was Albus. He gave me a sympathetic look.

"You're a good captain, Rose," he said. "But you need to get your head out of the clouds."

And then, I was left alone, totally and utterly frustrated.

* * *

><p>Sitting in the booth across from Kate and Jared, I glared out the window unhappily. I had agreed to go with them to Hogsmeade in the naive hope that it would distract me from life But, instead, my problems decided to tag along for the ride, too, and I was just bringing the new couple down with me. I brought my mug of butterbeer to my lips and chugged a couple sips before slamming it back down.<p>

"Someone's in a bad mood," Jared pointed out, signing for Kate. One of his arms were draped around her shoulders, and a permanent blush resided on Kate's high cheek bones.

She signed something back to him, and he continued for her.

"Kate's worried about you," he said as manly as possible, his voice gruff, trying to hide the obvious sentiment that clung to the words, no matter who said them.

With a sigh, I said with enunciated words, "I apologize. Life sucks. It's got nothing to do with you, Kate, or Jared."

Kate nodded, her ponytail bouncing behind her head. She reached forward and clasped her mug, taking a sip. "Is something wrong with you and Louis?" she signed, after placing her mug down, much most gentle than I had been.

I almost spewed my next sip of butterbeer out of my mouth at her statement. Louis Weasley. The one who actually took me to the ball. I hadn't spoken with him since that night, after lying to him about feeling ill and returning to my dormitory. I should have felt a lot more guilty, because Louis didn't deserve to be disrespected like that.

Now, the feeling of horrible guilt set at the bottom of my stomach, and bubbled in my throat. I felt raw and hot at the thought of Louis Weasley.

They noticed my alarm. "What did you do?" Jared asked instantly.

Kate gave him a look.

"I am a horrid, horrid leech," I told them both, cursing myself for being utterly stupid.

* * *

><p>As Potions class was adjourned, I swiftly got out of my seat and packed up my things. I had no interest in sticking around to see what else would fall apart in my life.<p>

I hurried out of the room and separated myself from other students. I wanted to be alone. I didn't want friends, or team mates, or anyone else getting near me. I wanted solitude, to be absolutely alone, and until now I didn't realized how hard it was to come by.

With the Quidditch pitch occupied by the Hufflepuff team, and Hagrid grooming one of his orphaned animals by the lake, I retreated to the room of Requirements. Glancing over my shoulder to ensure that nobody was in the area, I found my way into the room where everyone has hidden something.

I found it quite fascinating, truth be told. Sometimes I would search through all of the things, piled from years of stowing and hiding. There wasn't nearly as many things as it did before the war, though it did have things that were decades old. I heard from another student that during the Second Wizarding War, everything in the Room of Requirements was destroyed by a fire, caused by a Slytherin boy trying to kill Harry Potter. It gave the Goyles a bad rep for a while, their father being best friends with the one held responsible.

Placing all of my things by the door, I took a seat in a dusty old chair. I crossed my legs and just sat there for a while. I tried to still my breathing, and be utterly silent.

You know those moments where you just sit there, and think about nothing, and you bask in the glory of your mind being unoccupied?

Me neither.

I had trouble clearing my mind, and reigning in my thoughts. You'd think that, it'd being my head and all, I'd have a say in what crossed through my mind. Instead, it kept settling on one issue after another, and finally I gave in.

With the finals coming up, I had to start thinking of some game strategies for winning the House Cup. I had been failing my team by not dwelling on the finals enough. I had been occupied with other things.

And by other things, I meant James and the Potters.

I was flunking History of Magic. I had never flunked anything before. But I had been busy with a few things.

James.

I'd been neglecting Louis, the only brave enough to talk to me after being disowned, ever since the ball, but it was because I didn't want to tell him the truth.

About James.

In a spur of anger, I took up an old picture frame and threw it at the opposing wall. The glass shattered and spilled on the floor, and the frame snapped in half. Frustration took over me and I felt like screaming until my throat was raw.

Why did my life suddenly revolve around stupid, fucking James Potter? I sounded like such a girl, with all my problems surrounded with excuses. It was totally pathetic. _But James this, but James that._

Was I really being such an airhead? An absolute twat?

Closing my eyes for a moment, I rubbed my temples.

It was time to put James on hold. Because my entire world didn't revolve around him. He didn't even like me, for Melin's sake. In fact, he bloody hated me at the moment!

I brought myself to the floor, leaning up against the cold stone wall. Things needed to be sorted out. Priorities needed to be straightened. I despised myself for sinking so low into the hole. I had just been digging my own grave the entire time, just slowly sinking.

What had I expected, anyway? That everything would just magically get better if James and I kissed? It had felt like that, before. But now, I was stuck. It was pretty much like trying to nail water to a tree.

Shutting my eyes quickly, I realized that my head hurt really badly. I tried to take my mind off of it and just sit there for a while.

It felt good, to be alone. Away from everybody, even the people I enjoyed. It was like I was a totally different person, when I was by myself. Knowing that nobody was watching my every move lifted a burden from my back, and it was magnificent.

I stood up quickly, and brushed off my hands hastily. I gathered my things and left the Room of Requirements with a new mind set. Not everything had to be about James, did it? No. I had a life, bloody hell. I was like a twelve year old with a silly crush.

The hallways were empty when I exited the room. With a deep breath, I composed myself and started down the hallways.

There was only one thing I wanted at that very moment, more than anything. I craved it with all of my being.

Waffles.

"Hello, Polly," I said as gently as I could. But honestly, I wasn't in the mood to be gentle.

"Miss Flint! It has been months since Polly last saw the miss!" the house elf squeaked in a tiny voice. Her giant eyes watched me apprehensively, and I had a feeling that she knew I was unhappy about something. "What can Polly do for you?"

"Would you whip me up a waffle?"

"Of course, miss."

"Thanks, Polly."

So, I sat on the counter with a lagging expression, chewing my most favorite food in the world. But, for some reason, it didn't fill the emptiness like it always had.

I was reminded of the night, so many months ago, when I retreated to the kitchens for a waffle, and I ran into James. Literally. A smile stretched onto my face, but only so briefly. It disappeared only moments later, because I also realized that this time, he wasn't going to come for me.

Shaking the thoughts away, I remembered what it was like, back then. I had been having some sort of having a mid life crisis, only at the age of sixteen. Lost, confused, abused, and alone, I had been searching for something, anything, to grab a hold of. I had been sinking.

Now, I felt like I had returned to that very night. I was cast off of the family tree, unloved by my own flesh and blood. I had made James my opponent, again. I was failing to stay afloat.

A pity party didn't seem logical, not in the least bit. But, as I continued to make the analysis of my life, it was like picking away at my wall with a pick axe. Each time it collided, it chipped off a little bit of rock. Each blow made me weaker.

I stuffed a huge, syrupy bite of waffle into my mouth. Gods, what was the point of me?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh hey, look, another lengthy author's note. Sorry for that. **

**I'm not going to lie guys, I've been feeling a little bit uninspired lately. I feel like I've just hit the biggest writing block ever, and I have no idea where to go next. **

**I'm not going to stop this story, or even put it onto hiatus. But I would like you to write, just in a review, what you would like to see happen next in this story. That's not cheating, is it? I would really appreciate it. I love seeing what you guys have to think, so please go ahead and do it! **

**And I am dying to comments and criticism. Please, never ever hold back. Much love! **


	28. Black Sylvia

**Previously **

_Potter watched uselessly as a messy scene unfolded in front of everyone in the Leaky Cauldron._

_"You want to go there, Flint?" he spat._

_"Bring it on, Adams!" I shouted. Nobody insulted me, and I would fight until I was bloody and bruised to a pulp._

_When he shoved my shoulders, knocking me back a step, Jemima stepped in between the two of us, scolding him. "Mr. Adams! We do not tolerate fightin' in the Leaky Cauldron, and we certainly will not accept bigger, stronger, older lads beatin' up ladies, even if they be provokin' them!"_

_Byron looked away from me, muttering a, "Yes, of course," and then a louder, "You better watch your back, Flint!" He and Gavin stalked out of the shabby pub._

**Chapter 27 - Black Sylvia **

He sat at the table quite uncomfortably, his peering gaze hidden behind his spindly fingers . Across the room, at the Slytherin table, sat Rosalie Flint. She looked grim, looking down at her food with discontent, holding her stomach as if she felt nauseous. She didn't even try taking a bite, for fear of not being able to keep it down.

She looked horrid, in all truth. The circles under her eyes had grown, and she had dropped at least half a stone since the beginning of the school year. That was terrible, considering she had nothing to lose in the first place. Her hair, becoming slightly brittle, was pulled into a messy and knotted up-do, and her dim hazel eyes lazily scanned the papers beneath her.

The beginning of the annual Hogwarts Quidditch tournament was this weekend, and it was stressful. All four houses were fighting for extra minutes on the pitch with their teams. The training was overpowering, and the studying was tiresome.

James watched her with mild curiosity. Rosalie was obviously planning out some strategies for the weekend, because she was doing that thing with her cheek; chewing on the inside of it mindlessly.

Millions of thoughts and emotions circulated through his head as he watched her. Contempt and scorn, along with an aching lust, all on top of a connection of sorts, a link that drew him in. He couldn't summarize what he felt for Rosalie in a single word if his dear life depended on it.

He'd always despised her, and she him. The rivalry that had existed, and still continued on, between them had been boiling hot and full of squabbling. But strangely, that sensation of friendship erupted, and he wanted to know more about her and her life. He had hated her for a majority of his time at Hogwarts, and he barely even knew why.

When she saved Lily, James had just been so lost. Didn't she, a mudblood-hating, Pureblood fanatic want the Potters to come to an end? But her actions showed a side to her that he didn't even know existed.

And the whole situation with Matthias and her family was just confusing and contorted, but in the end he was actually glad to have played some kind of role, no matter how minuscule, in reviving her.

In the end, they developed some sort of friend/enemy hybrid relationship. And honestly, James hadn't minded.

The friendship soon morphed, and he was angry with her. Not really, though. The twisted, overlapping feelings he felt towards her were just a total wreck. The anger, the frustration, the jealousy, and the affection. All mixed into one emotion that can't be described.

Then, he kissed her.

Oh, gods, that kiss. The absolute best kiss of James' life. No other one could have measured up to the raw adrenaline and rush that had consumed him as he kissed Rosalie. He'd been upset, then distraught, and then bam! The kiss just overrode everything.

But the rush did ware off, and he was left feeling like a fragile pillar holding up a kingdom. If he moved, everything he'd ever worked for would just crumble, and become a pile of rubble.

So, he swerved into another lane and began ignoring Rosalie.

It was difficult, because she was so ruddy stubborn. Her persistence was endless, and she kept pecking at him constantly.

He just didn't know how to feel, how to react. It was overwhelming, honestly. He thought that maybe, if he ignored her, his unknown feelings would go away. They would return to their aggressive rivalry, and life would go on. James would graduate from Hogwarts after only one more short year at school, and continue on with his life. Without Rosalie. Yet then, he might be unhappy. But he wasn't entirely sure.

Because if he chose to love her, than what would happen? At the end of one path was everything he'd planned out. But with Rosalie, all he saw was darkness. There was no way of telling what would happen in one year, five years, ten years... It was like jumping into an pitch black abyss of the unknown, with a single torch to guide you forever.

James was unsure of what to do. For the first time in his life, he felt like he didn't have all the right answers.

And it simply came down to choosing between what he wanted, and what was safe.

* * *

><p>The mug scalded my bare hands as I carried a steaming hot mug of black coffee towards my dormitory. The smell was beautiful, and all I really wanted was to drop my school books and just gulp it down right then and there. But two things stopped me.<p>

One, I was sure to get in trouble if I was caught after hours with a full mug of coffee. Two, I was also sure that I was being followed.

I might have been acting just plain paranoid, but I couldn't help listening to the discreet sound of voices and light footsteps behind me. As an excellent Quidditch player, I had heightened senses. Obviously, the two buffoons following me didn't know this, so I crossed out my first two suspects: James and/or Fred. They weren't too bright, but they certainly weren't daft.

Plus, James honestly had no reason to follow me.

So, I continued to walk quickly and hoped that I could reach the Slytherin dormitories before anything bizarre happened.

I was particularly burdened with work that night. Normally, I had all of my homework finished by curfew, but with the project that counted for a quarter of my Herbology grade, the extra Quidditch practice after supper, and the prefects meeting earlier that evening, my day had been indubitably hectic.

The Head Boy and Girl were particularly strict with the rules and meetings this time of the year. April First was rolling around the bend, and with it being the most straining day for prefects of the entire year, they were really cracking down.

Life was becoming harder and I felt like everything was closing in on me.

After searching and searching for a new one, I stumbled across Hans Havrehead, a Danish 5th year with a knack for playing as the keeper. He did wonderful, and we actually ended up winning that game. Unfortunately, he's been on my tail for the entire week, begging me to put him back in. Problem was that Galloway was now out of the infirmary, and he was keen on getting back in. Throw an anxious Madam Pomfrey into the mess and you have a giant web of uprising issues.

Along with that and preparing for the Quidditch tournament, I also had a heavy flow of homework to do, and studying for the End of the Year exams was tedious. On top of everything else, I also had work at the Three Broomsticks, a messy love/hate relationship with James that _wasn't_ getting any easier, prefect duties, and trying to find a place to live for the summer. Because I sure as hell wasn't staying with the Potters, at the moment.

A long sigh hissed through my teeth, making a louder sound than possible.

By now, the coffee had cooled down considerably and it made me feel unhappy. After all, who wants to drink cold coffee?

I finally found my way to the dungeons and, quickly checking around to make sure nobody had actually followed me, I entered cautiously and quietly. Maybe I had been imagining the whole thing. With all of this work piling up, it was quite possible.

Setting up camp for the night in the common room, I began working on my Herbology project. I spent a lot of time in the common room because I hated being near Veronique and Georgiana. It was just better for me to stay out of the equation. Whenever I was around them, they were snide and crude, and always brought up people like Matthias and Blaze and stupid Cassandra Sinclair, just to aggravate me. They knew which buttons to press.

Chugging down some coffee like bona fide addict, I struggled to finish my assignments for Herbology. But finally I packed it away and pulled out my clipboard, containing all of my Quidditch strategies, rosters, plans and schedules. I reviewed everything, jotting down a few notes here or there. And after I finished up that, I crept up the stairs to my dormitory, and retreated to my bed.

* * *

><p>Just one glance was enough for me to know what he was thinking. He was rather like an open book. And right now, he wasn't very happy with me.<p>

Louis Weasley was confused, and I suppose I understood. Of course I did. I felt horribly guilty, just looking at him, but I couldn't myself to stand up, walk over to him, and apologize. I wasn't as humble as I wish I could be. Pride and guilt stood in between us like a brick wall, and all I had was a chisel.

I was afraid of confronting him. Would he be angry, or sad? I didn't know.

Did he like me, or were we just friends? That question's what was really keeping me back. I didn't want to hurt Louis, because he was too nice to hurt. He was the only friend I had after Christmas break, if I could even call our relationship a _friendship_. He wasn't at the same level as Jared was. Whether he was higher or lower, I wasn't sure. I just knew that I didn't feel the same way towards Louis as I did Jared.

Maybe I liked Louis. Not as much as James, but just enough to react this way. He was everything a bloke should be: respectful, intelligent, and kind.

This thought made me visibly cringe. Kate looked at me oddly, from across the library desk beside Jared. The idea of having feelings for Louis, other than friendship, should have been ludicrous in my mind. Instead, it made some sense, which was worse than just feeling guilty for ditching him for James.

Sighing audibly, I shut my Transfiguration notebook quietly and stood up. Looking down at Kate and Jared, whom I'd been studying with, I said, "I have to get to Quidditch practice. I'll see you two at the match tomorrow."

"Before or after Hufflepuff pummels Slytherin?" Jared asked, and I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

"That's funny," I said sarcastically.

Kate waves to me before I turn out of the library, careful not to meet Louis' inquiring gaze.

The sun, hiding behind a thick sheet of grey clouds, offers barely any warmth. I clutched my clipboard in one hand, and held my broom in the other as I walked over to my team, my cloaks billowing in the wind as it blew harshly. Flying was going to be difficult.

"Nice to have you back, Galloway," I said, nodding curtly at him. "Havrehead, shockingly, I'm not surprised to see you here."

Cadmus and Hans shared a dirty look, but didn't say anything to each other. I felt like rolling my eyes, but I just continued instead.

"Now, the Quidditch tournament begins tomorrow and if you want the trophy, you're going to have to fight for it. The other teams are getting feisty and aggressive. By the end of practice today, I'll have you all spitting fire," I shouted, looking them all dead in the eye. Then, pulling out my wand from it's pocket inside of my cloaks, I used it to line up some markers. "Let's start with warm-ups! Mount your brooms."

Practice lasted for over two hours, and it consisted on endless exercises and matches. I drilled them fiercely until they were covered with sweat, even in the chilled, early spring weather. I even pushed a complaint out of Vandevort, and I was more than pleased to shout an obscene comment back at her. Albus and Scorpius snickered at my retort, and Corrin shot them a grisly look.

After we had all landed back on the grass, in the center of the pitch, I told them, "I want to see you guys here, bright and early, Thursday morning. We have a lot to get done before the tournament begins. We're playing Hufflepuff this weekend."

"What a joke," Guff commented, guffawing. "We can squash that team like a bug."

The rest of the team seems to agree with Guffs statement.

"In the end, it's always the prideful who fall, Elliot Guff," I replied with a non-humorous tone of voice. "Never underestimate your opponents."

And I turned on my heel and sped off.

Making sure all of my equipment was stowed away in its proper place, I took off my constricting Quidditch robes in an effort to cool off. I dropped them on the floor of the closet as I packed away my broom with extra care.

I was eager to shower and get back to the castle. I was in the mood for a steaming mug of hot chocolate, which would indubitably be available in the kitchen. I was also starving for some good food.

Scrubbing my dirty skin with a sweet smelling soap, I let the hot water pound on my sore, aching muscles and trickle down my body. The sudden change of temperature, from the damp, muggy spring weather outside to the hot rush of the shower, was relieving.

Toweling off and then throwing on some loose-fitting and comfortable clothes, I left the locker room and started walking up towards the castle.

The sun had already set, and the sky was growing darker by the second. The moon was just visible, the ivory crescent beaming with majesty. It's rays weren't as harsh as the suns, but rather soft and delicate.

I was reminded of the twins Apollo and Artemis, Greek gods from thousands of years ago. Both owned a magnificent bow. Apollo's arrows stung like fire and seared painfully. Artemis' arrows were gentle and caressed the victim. Both were fatal, and the arrows represented the contrast between the ray of the sun and the beams of the moon.

Distracted, I didn't see the giant figures approaching me from behind. I didn't actually notice their presence until one drawled, in a low and gravely tone, "Hello, scum."

And then I was on the ground, the sting of a blow aching the side of my head. Breathless, I turned onto my back and looked up. It was still light enough to identify my attackers.

"Adams? Peterson?"

The huge Gryffindor boys peered down at me, both wearing expressions of disgust. "We warned you to watch your back, didn't we?"

I was baffled. I had not expected them to bother me again, as long as I didn't aggravate them again. Obviously, I had been wrong. I glared at them, hurrying to my feet with little grace. I lifted a hand to the side of my head, and realized that it was swelling. I subtly tried to reach into my pocket for my wand, but then realized I had left it in my Quidditch robes. I cursed mentally.

"Well, that's going to leave a mark," I said, attempting to stall.

Byron sneered, ignoring my remark. "You're not very observant, are you, little Slytherin?"

"Little?" I scoffed.

"We've been following you," Gavin said, pleased with himself.

"Following... you two were there! That night, I thought someone was following me," I said, my heart pounding wildly. My palms were starting to sweat. "But why?"

Byron smirked. "So I could do this, without getting caught." And he jabbed me right in the ribs.

I caught my breath, doubling over, and tried to bury the groan that was building up in my throat. He was holding back, I knew it. He was too big. If it hurt when he just jabbed me, I couldn't imagine what a full blown punch felt like.

"I'm meeting someone," I lied, right through my teeth. "Right up there, by those rocks." It was fluid and so realistic, I would have believed it myself.

But they didn't. "Slytherins, always lying," Byron laughed, without humor. It was chilling and it reminded me of Matthias' laugh, when he was angry. "Little Rosalie, when I said we'd been following you, I meant it. You're not meeting anyone. In fact, everyone still thinks you're at the pitch..."

It was now fully dark, and the sky had turned a dark shade of blue; just light enough that anyone knew the sun had just set. The stars were starting to glisten up above, shining against the darkness like diamonds against velvet. If I had been in any other situation, I would have been admiring the night sky. Instead, all I could do was stare at Byron and Gavin, waiting.

I barely knew them, and I didn't know what they were capable of. It had been so long ago, that afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron, nearly three or four months ago. And after the whole ordeal with Lily Luna, I had nearly forgotten their encounter. I couldn't even remember what I had said to them. They were obviously still pissed about it, though, so I must've given a really good hit at their egos.

Were they just going to beat me up, or would they go so far as to kill me?

Apparently, the answer was neither at the moment.

Because Byron took out his wand, and muttered a spell. Instantly, I was unconscious. I remember falling to the gravel, the crunch of the small pebbles under the weight of my body quiet, and then Byron saying to Gavin, "You grab her things, stuff them in the woods. I'll carry her."

And then, everything went black.

I wasn't out for long; the spell must have been very mild. I woke up to the sound of bugs chirping, and I even heard a wolf crying out in the distance. Vaguely, I realized where I was. And then, it hit me as hard as a buldger doing fifty.

The Forbidden Forest.

Struggling, I tried to move, but I was tied to something, bound with ropes and a fat lot of magic. A tree, it's sturdy and rough trunk rubbing harshly against my back. I looked around, my eyes darting from object to object, looking for anything that would help me. But it was dark, and all I could see were the shadows cast by the dim light of the moon.

I nearly screamed out for help, but then images of the creatures that lived in the Forbidden Forest flashed through my mind, and instantly I knew that would be a stupid choice. Especially at night.

My mind was racing, and my heart was beating beyond rapidly, savagely pounding inside of my chest. Panic was setting in as I turned my head as far to the side as I could, trying to recognize where I was, and how far away from the castle I could be.

Lost for ideas, I finally slammed my head against the tree, giving up, letting tears stream down my cheeks.

* * *

><p>He glanced around anxiously, tapping his foot and drumming his fingers on the window pane by the bench. With a stifled sigh, he stood and approached Georgiana Ruthford, who was talking to Veronique across the library, without hesitance. Rosalie and Georgiana weren't friends any longer, but they were dorm mates. Maybe she knew.<p>

"Have you seen Rosalie? We were supposed to start out rounds thirty minutes ago," James said to the pug-like Slytherin girl.

"I'm sorry, what gives you the right to talk to me?" she asked snobbishly, earning a giggle from Veronique.

James snapped, "Just tell me where the bloody hell she is."

Raising a thin, penciled eyebrow, she said, "I haven't seen Rosalie all day. She had Quidditch this evening, after supper, that's all I know."

Groaning audibly, James stalked away from the Slytherin girls. Of course, Rosalie must have ditched him for extra Quidditch practice. It was unprofessional of her, and it was unlike her to neglect her prefect duties, but she would do something like that, especially the week before the tournament began.

He started for the Quidditch pitch, running into a few people along the way. Among them were Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson. They were just walking into the castle as James made his exit. They were covered in dirt, and sweat had collected on their foreheads despite the cool weather. James gave them a strange look as he walked through the doors. He almost asked about their messy appearance, but he refrained. There was something glinting in their eyes, and James didn't want to get in the middle of whatever trouble they were creating.

When he arrived at the pitch, he couldn't find any signs of Rosalie or the Slytherin Quidditch team anywhere. Now confused, he searched the locker rooms, even the girls', and all of the sheds and closets.

Making his way back up to the castle, he saw something lying in the gravel. It glimmered in the moon light, projecting a radiant and sparkling light. James reached down and picked it up, examining it carefully.

It was a silver earring, and one he recognized. A memory bubbled in his mind, one from at least two years ago.

_"Ooh, look at you, Flint! All dolled up for Slughorn's party!" James cooed, leaning against the stone wall, Fred chortling beside him._

_Rosalie's nose wrinkled. "I"m sorry, but I don't respond to vermin like you." _

_James jumped up, sauntering over to Rosalie. "And look at that, you're even wearing a pair of pretty earrings. Little Rosalie is all grown up now," he taunted her, his voice light and teasing but dark with motives. He reached out to fondle the earring, but she slapped his hand away harshly. _

_"Don't touch those! They're from my nana."_

_"How precious." _

With narrowed eyes, James pocketed the small piece of jewelry. Something wasn't right.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the wait, I feel so horrid! It's just my summer's been really busy, so I've been away from the computer often. Be nice: today's my birthday! :P**

**Anyways, just so you know what's in store, I'm planning on ending this story between chapters 30 and 35.. It's very exciting for me, because I have never actually finished a multi-chapter story on Fanfiction before! Milestones here, people! **

**There will not be a sequel, just because I feel like I honestly have nothing to write a sequel about. I don't know, maybe it will change, but as of now there will not be a sequel.**

**I just wanted to take a second and thank you all for being so kind and supportive, and honestly I would have given up a really long time ago if it wasn't for you! **

**So much love! ~Ramitora**


	29. The Close Encounter

**Chapter 28 - The Close Encounter**

Blood and sweat stained my forehead. There was a gash on my hairline, running from the corner of my right eye. A dull, throbbing pain ached my chest, where Byron punched my ribs. I was pretty sure one or two were broken, but it was impossible to tell.

Time was lost to me. It could have been minutes, but it felt like days. My head was hurting and the frustration, fear and anxiety were building up. My arms and back were so uncomfortable as I fought against the ropes and the spells that were binding me. But it was all done in vain. I couldn't break free, no matter how hard I pulled and yanked.

I couldn't help but dully wonder, in the back of my mind, if anyone would ever find me, help me. Even if Byron and Gavin came back for me, it would be more than a relief.

After quidditch practice, I slowly remembered, I was supposed to start prefect rounds with James. I almost cringed as I remembered my stomach churning at the thought of being with James. Now, I would have gladly traded that for this. Maybe he would look for me. But I wasn't counting on it. I wasn't his favorite person now, apparently.

The more I thought about it, the more I wished he would show up and save me.

The natural sounds of the Forbidden Forest was the only thing that kept me from losing it. Large insects, terrifying canines, the howling of the restless wind. Screaming out would only worsen the situation.

It was getting harder and harder to remain aware and calm. I was holding in the despair, but it was starting to leak like sand running through my fingertips.

There was no light to aid me. Certainly I was going to stay here for hours, if not days. I could only pray that I wasn't stuck there forever.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Potter? May I ask why you and Miss Flint haven't started your rounds yet?" Professor McGonagall inquired, giving James a look, her stern eyes watching him without budging.<p>

He gave an exasperated sigh. "I'd like to tell you, Mickey, but I haven't got a clue where the gal is."

"I would prefer if you stopped addressing me by that farcical and ludicrous nickname," she said, without giving him room to make a comeback. "Now, I expect you to go and look for your partner before I give both of you detention."

"Professor, I've looked everywhere," James said, a serious tone now threaded into his voice. "I even went down to the Quidditch pitch and asked Ruthford."

Her eyes flickered to some passing students before she said, "Perhaps you did not look hard enough."

James shook his head. "I swear, it's like she's just vanished." He didn't bring up the earring he discovered on the road the lead down to the pitch. He felt as if it were weird that he recognized it so quickly, so he kept it to himself.

McGonagall turned to a painting that hung next to their heads. "Hello, Mr. Abbott?"

The portrait of the pudgy man turned to face the headmistress. "Professor! What a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for Miss Flint, she appears to be missing. You haven't seen her about, have you?"

"She stepped out a few hours ago, ma'am, dressed in her quidditch robes."

"Thank you, Mr. Abbott. You see, Mr. Potter? Go look down at the quidditch pitch again, before you both have you prefect privileges revoked for being so irresponsible." With a terse nod, the strict headmistress turned and walked away from James.

He audibly groaned. "Now I have to walk all the way to the pitch again."

But a little voice, in the back of his mind, told him, _James, something isn't right. _

Ignoring his conscience, he stalked back out of the school and started down the rocky path. Pebbles crunched under his feet as he hobbled lazily towards the pitch that seemed to be empty. The sky was dark now, and it would have been impossible to see if James hadn't taken out his wand and lit the tip of it. Finally, when he arrived at the lush and well-cared for field, he did a quick scan. No Rosalie in sight.

He stalked over to the locker rooms, his mood darkening, and he tentatively knocked on the door. When he pushed it open, all of the light were off. Curiously, he stepped in.

James had been in the girls' locker rooms only once before, so he wasn't accustomed to it. It was different from the boys', he noticed warily.

There were several quidditch robes slung over hooks, near the showers, and he quietly stepped over to them. There was one pair that he immediately recognized - Rosalie's - and he figured that she'd probably left them here with full intentions of returning early in the morning. Her dedication was intense.

The tip of her wand peeked out from one of the inner pockets, and, suddenly curious, he picked it out. She must have left in on accident.

And then it dawned on him that something really _wasn't_ right. Rosalie wasn't a careless person.

Walking out of the locker rooms and not caring enough to shut the door behind him, James jogged up to the spot where he found her earring earlier.

"What happened here?" he asked out loud, to himself.

Pointing his wand at the spot to bring more light, he noticed, if he looked hard enough, the imprint of a small body. It was barely there, but definite. Large footsteps, obviously not Rosalie's, circled around the area.

At first, James immediately thought of Matthias. But there were two sets of strange footprints. Maybe Blake? No, he wouldn't take part of such an act.

His thoughts turned to the two sketchy-looking boys he'd seen earlier, Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson. Dirty and wary looking. But why? What did they have against Rosalie?

James remembered the scene at the Leaky Cauldron, so many months ago. Rosalie's snide words, their aggressive stances... the very words of Byron: "You better watch your back, Flint!"

Clenching his fists, James was suddenly engulfed in rage, but also worry. What had they done to her? He was disgusted by them, horrified that two students from his own house could do such a thing. It was always the Slytherins... how prejudiced James had been.

He didn't even have to admire his very good detective instincts. He couldn't confront the two Gryffindors - they each had at least 60 pounds on him. So he set off, to look around a bit more, for clues.

_Like Sherlock Holmes_, he thought. Okay, so he did have a few ticks to admire his detective skills. But his expression deepened soon, and he returned to being very serious.

James ran into his cousin, Lucy, on his way through the castle. Only eighteen months younger than her older sister, Molly, she was in the year below James. She was about five foot two and her hair was what appeared to be a mix of Weasley orange and Percy's wife's shade of brown. Altogether, she was what 'very pretty' looked like, but being her cousin, James could hardly come to that conclusion.

She had a fiery spirit, and sometimes - _okay, all of the time_ - she was hard to get along with. She was one of those artsy, rebellious people who were daring and sarcastic. Lily often reminded him of Lucy. Despite their age difference, they did hang out a lot. Though, God knows what would happen if Lily started acting completely like Lucy.

"Oi, where're you off too?" she hollered after him, and his fast pace slowed down considerably, allowing her to catch up. "Merlin, I'm not even running and you're making me feel out of breath."

Rolling his eyes, he commented shortly, "What do you need?"

"I just wanted to talk with you. Sue me."

"Now's not a good time."

"Why not?" she persisted.

"I've got something to do," he replied.

Her eyebrows shot up, and a small grin grew on her face. "Oh?"

James hissed as he let out a sharp breath through his teeth. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

Growing impatient with her, James spilled. "It's Rosalie. I think she's... in some sort of trouble."

"That girl you fancy? What's the problem?"

"Well, you see- I do not fancy her!" he protested.

Lucy gave him a lok that only girls could master: the 'oh-please-of-course-you-do' look. Unable to fight against it, James sighed.

"Whatever, Lou."

"It's funny that you've brought her up," she said, turning to peer at her older cousin. "Because I just heard Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson muttering about her, those devils."

"What did they say about her?" he asked swiftly.

"Now, now, don't get your knickers in a twist."

James wanted to tell Lucy to stop joking, to make her understand the severity of the situation. But, at the same time, he didn't want to reveal too much to her, and get her involved. So, he waited for her.

"I didn't hear too much," she finally said, after making several other comments, much to his nerve. "Just something about Rosalie, and the forest. Mad, they are."

"The forest? As in the Forbidden Forest?"

"No, the Peppermint Forest," she answered sarcastically.

"Oh, just shut up, Lucy. I've got to dash."

After ditching Lucy, who was almost not worth the trouble for the sliver of information he shook out of her, James realized that he didn't have many people to go to. He needed help, but it was too soon to go to McGonagall. So, he turned to his last resort.

Albus.

* * *

><p>I was so sore, so exhausted and drained, and so scared.<p>

I didn't normally accept the fact that I was terrified, but I had no reason to hide my emotions and put on a brave face anymore. There was no one around to see me fall apart.

A small, dark squirrel padded past me, it's bushy tail twitching as it stopped to stare at me with beady and black, curious eyes.

"Oi, what are you peering at?" I whispered. "Unless you're going to chew through these ropes, get your ass out of here!"

And the little creature scurried off, no longer interested in me.

Now I was talking to squirrels. Great.

I could hardly find humor in the short conversation I'd just had with a woodland creature, but a small laugh bubbled in my throat. Talking to squirrels, that was a first. And it was a sure tell sign that I was going absolutely mad.

It was very cold. The chilly air of early April nipped at my nose and the tips of my ears. My hands, useless by my side, were starting to numb from the cool temperature. How long had I been out here? Hours, at least four by now. A bruise had formed on my chest, and the ropes rubbed up against it, making the horrid pain nearly unbearable.

Gritting my teeth, I let my head rest against the think trunk of the tree.

Footsteps came from my left side, but I didn't pay much attention to them. They were small, nearly silent, obviously not human. Maybe the squirrel was coming back for another little talk. So, I didn't even open my eyes, figuring that they would pass.

But they didn't. They grew closer and closer, and then realized that my hearing was fuzzy from the previous blow to my head. They were heavier than I had realized. My eyelids flickering open, I almost screamed bloody murder.

A wolf, with narrowed, slightly curious eyes watched me indecisively. The large lupine was bigger than me, around four hundred pounds of lean muscle and sharp teeth. It's fur was a sleek shade of gray, and his stomach and paws were a dirty ivory. I recognized it quickly: a Baltazart Winter wolf, a creature that hibernated for most of the year, and came out only during March and April.

McGonagall had warned the students about them, but Rosalie had ever thought she would encounter one in real life. Her heart was racing as she faced the beast she knew was capable of ending her.

It sniffed the surrounding air, and it must have caught the scent of my blood, because it's once-curious eyes grew dark and he took on an aggressive stance. It turned into a deadly predator.

And I was its prey.

A blood curling scream sliced through the tense air, and it took only half a second for me to realize that it was my own. I started wriggling in the ropes desperately. Had Byron and Gavin known that this would happen? Is that why they left me here, like a sacrifice on the altar? Right then, though, it didn't matter. I was going to die either way.

It sauntered forward, almost taunting me, its sharp eyes focused on me. Then, it lunged. I felt it's long claws penetrate the bark of the tree, on either side of my head. It's muzzle was inches away from my face. I suppressed a yelp, knowing that it would only anger the creature further. It dragged it's long talons down the trunk of the tree, until it's paws met the rope and it thudded to the ground.

Circling around me, I shut my eyes. I hoped that, by some miracle, if I didn't make eye contact with it, it would just leave.

But I had no such luck.

It leaped again, and this time it's claws collided with my body, and they cut into my thigh, raking all the way down to my knee. I let out a whimper, unable to form a proper screech. The pain was extreme, and blood seeped through my pants, trickling down the inside on my pant leg. It was sickeningly warm, and the metallic, coppery scent intensified.

So this was how I was going to die.

* * *

><p>"Hagrid, you have to listen!" James nearly shouted. "Rosalie's in trouble."<p>

But he just shook his hairy head, giving the Potter boys an apologetic look. It was obvious that he didn't fully believe either of them. "I'm sorry, but I can' let the two of yeh into the forest this time of night. This is the season of the Baltazart Winter wolves, nasteh creatures. They're hibernatin' most of the year, and are only around early March to late April. I dun even like ta go out there."

James threw up his arms, exasperated, and Albus just crossed his arms. "More the reason to let us go! She could get hurt!"

Hagrid was about to reply was a terrified scream broke the peaceful forest air like a rock thrown at a glass window. The three remained silent for a moment, just staring at each other, before Hagrid said, "I've got ta go get Professor McGonagall. Yeh two stay here, Fang'll protect yer. Don't you go and leave."

But right after Hagrid disappeared into the castle, the two brothers set off to find Rosalie, the forest swallowing them up.

* * *

><p>Louis Weasley was in the library when he heard the news.<p>

"Have you heard? Rosalie Flint is missing?" his sister Dominique said, alarmed. "I was looking for her, because she was supposed ot be doing rounds, when I heard Hagrid yelling for Professor McGonagall!" She looked devastated.

"Missing? What d'you mean?" he inquired hurriedly.

"Gone, somewhere in the Forbidden Forest! Nobody knows how she got there. Hagrid said that James and Albus were absolutely sure she was in trouble, somewhere in the forest, and then they heard her scream. What if she's hurt? What if she's dead?!"

"Be quiet, Dominique, she can't be dead," Louis said, shoving his books away and turning to Dominique with concern plain on his face.

"But don't you remember what McGonagall said, at supper a couple weeks ago? "Remember students, this is the season of the Baltazart Winter wolves, fierce lupine predators with a taste for magical blood. It makes them stronger, a more powerful hunter. Under no conditions will any of you step foot in that forest. Not only would you be risking expulsion, but also risking your life.""

"What are they going to do about it?" Louis rushed, walking towards the library exit.

The hallways were crowded with students muttering about Rosalie Flint. In just a short while, the news had spread like wildfire.

"Did you hear about Flint?" a fourth year said to him.

Louis barely nodded, not quite paying attention to the younger wizard.

"And James and Albus Potter have just gone after her! Now they're missing! Flat out idiots, if you ask me!"

Looking down, suddenly focused, he said, "James and Albus?"

Mass chaos had broken out. Kate Levesque, one of Rosalie's only friends, was sobbing on Jared Olinick's shoulder. Professors were trying to calm everyone down, and Lily Luna Potter was arguing with Slughorn about going after her brothers.

"They could all be dead." Dominique started crying. "Our cousins and Rosalie. They could be dead."

* * *

><p>It all happened so quick.<p>

The massive beast was about to snap it's powerful jaw on my shoulder when it was shoved down to the ground. It let out an angry whimper and then a harsh bark as it turned to face it's attacker.

I looked to find a centaur, poised to battle the wolf, a bow in his strong hands. While the wolf was distracted, the stoic create took out a long knife and at first, I believed he was going to kill me first. But, instead, he sliced the ropes like it was nothing.

Falling to the ground unceremoniously, pain shot up my leg from the deep gash on the front of my thigh.

"Go," he simply stated, leaving no room for argument. "That way."

I couldn't even speak as unbearable shock coursed through my body. But, I gathered strength and adrenaline and started away from the duo, in the direction my hero had pointed me in. As I continued, I picked up a faster pace, and suddenly I was sprinting.

I wanted to scream out,"help!", but I could barely breathe. I turned my head one last time to find the centaur knocking an arrow and shooting it at the wolf. A bone chilling howl echoed within the trees, and the creature crumbled to the ground.

Tripping over a root, I fell to the ground with a loud crash. An ugly, twisted noise escaped my lips and, for a second, I focused on the relief the cool earth brought me. It felt so much better not putting any weight on my wounded leg.

The world was spinning as I tried to force myself up. Suddenly, I had thirteen blood-stained fingers instead of ten. My head was pounding, my heart was racing, and my leg was in excruciating agony.

"Help me."

My voice was hoarse and it cracked as I uttered the two quiet words.

"Please."

* * *

><p>Everything was too real for James.<p>

His breathing was heavy as he ran through the trees, Albus on his tail, his eyes frantically darting from object to object in search of her.

"Rosalie!"

It was desperate, a plea. He couldn't even... fathom, a world without the obnoxious, stubborn, know it all that Rosalie had proven to be. A world without those brilliant, intelligent hazel eyes, and that voice that could lead a thousand armies into battle.

His heart pounded as he ran.

"Rosalie!"

James came to a halt, panting as he looked around over and over again.

"James, we need to get McGonagall," Albus said in defeat. "We won't be able to find her. The forest is too large, and we haven't got a clue where she could be."

"No, I won't give up," James retorted with a fiery determination.

"It wouldn't be giving up."

But James knew it would be. And he wasn't going to stop until he found her.

* * *

><p>I was fazing in and out of reality. It was most likely the loss of blood. My leg was soaked with the crimson liquid now, my pants sticking to the grimy skin. Pieces of grass and clumps of dirt stuck to my sweaty and bloody face as I laid on the ground, unable to move.<p>

I could hear voices. I didn't know if it was real, or if it was just my mind finally cracking. I couldn't shout out, so I just listened.

They were faint, but I recognized them, even in my state.

"James. Albus."

A whisper, an echo of what little hope was still left inside of me. I ached for the gentle caress of a hand, something that would comfort me. I thirsted for a drop of cool water to quench the fire burning underneath my skin.

So, I tried. The pain skyrocketed as I drew in a long breath. I gathered all the air of aching lungs were capable of holding. And I screamed.

It was short, and it didn't even echo, but I knew they heard me. Everything went silent, deadly silent, and then footsteps could be heard, even with my fuzzy hearing.

"Rosalie. Rosalie! Rose!"

Then a pair of hands explored my body, feeling for injuries. I recognized, through blurry vision, James Potter's face as he stared down at me. I couldn't even feel humiliated, only grateful. I knew I was safe, because I was with friends.

"Broken ribs, a bump on the head." His cool fingers grazed my forehead. "A disgusting gash on her leg."

"Looks like claw marks," Albus noted.

"One of the wolves must've gotten to her."

"How'd she even get out here?"

"I have a hunch."

"But how did she survive? Those wolves... they're not to be messed with."

James ended the conversation with, "Let's not talk about it. All that matters now is that we get her to Madame Pomfrey."

The journey was torturous. Every inch felt like a hundred miles. I hurt all over, and every jolt and bump killed me a little more. But, as soon as we reached Hagrid's hut, and the gentle hands of the healer grasped onto me, I knew that it was over. Finally over.

And I swore, on Salazar Slytherin's grave, Adams and Peterson were going to have absolute hell to pay.

* * *

><p>It was quiet when I woke up. I was clothed in a soft white gown and hidden under plenty of warm blankets. The infirmary, as I recognized it to be, was dark and silent. There were no other patients sleeping around me, but there was a body beneath my bed, on the cold floor, curled up beside me. It was obviously a boy, almost a man, with messy brown hair.<p>

James.

I stared at him for the longest time before casting my eyes up at the ceiling and beginning to assess the damages. My leg was absolutely numb, and I could reach down and feel the heavy layers on bandages wrapped around the wounds. There was a bump and several scrapes on my forehead. My rib cage was trapped in a tight, linen cloth, and beside the bed was a few bottles of potions.

"How do you feel?"

The voice was low and gravelly from sleep. James was looking at me lightly, his brown eyes even twinkling in the dark, and he gave me the smallest of smiles.

"Numb, and high on healing potions."

He nearly laughed. "That's... good, I guess."

We watched each other for a while. For some reason, I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face. It meant so much more to me now, he meant more, now that he had saved me. He had searched for me, and didn't give up on me.

"I thought I'd lost you."

It came tumbling messily out of his mouth, but it was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to me.

"I thought you were gone."

Sighing, I finally looked away from him. The situation was getting sentimental, I could feel it coming on. But, even though I had refused to ever have a conversation of the sort before, I didn't close up this time. It was different.

"Thanks. For saving my ass."

He grinned, almost sadly, and remained quiet for a while. I told him to sit on the bed, by my uninjured leg, and he did so hesitantly.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk to you lately. I was thinking about that. I kept thinking that you were going to die, and I was never going to be able to tell you that... And it made me so... distressed. I can't explain it. Gods, I must look like a bloody idiot right now."

My eyes were careful, and my expression calm, as I watched him, with curiosity, struggle with his words. I waited patiently for him to continue.

"It's just... I was afraid of you."

"I'm not that scary, am I?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not like that. I mean... I don't know." And he looked away again.

I was about to tell him to go on when the door burst open, scaring James and I. Madame Pomfrey bustled in and said clearly, "Go to your dormitory, Mr. Potter, and leave Miss Flint to sleep. She needs to rest."

James gave me a look, and suddenly I didn't want him to go. But I let him leave, watching him disappear behind the heavy doors.

"Take this," the matron instructed. "It's a sleeping potion. It's going to knock you out for eighteen hours, giving your body plenty of time to heal. Drink up."

I took a swig of the potion, and instantly I felt drowsy. Madame Pomfrey took the vile away from me before I shut my eyes, and my hands dropped to my sides, and I fell right to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Bet you guys didn't see that coming. Oh yeah. **

**I'm so sorry for the wait, but I just got home from a super long vacation. But I'm back now, and ready to type! Thank you so much for reading, and thank you for all of your lovely reviews! I may not respond to all of them, but I certainly read all of them!**


	30. A Happy Screwed Up Mess

**A/N: Please note that this chapter has been REWRITTEN! Different ending, so make sure you re-read it. **

**There will be an explanation for my absence at the bottom of this chapter.**

**Chapter 29 - A Happy Screwed Up Mess**

James Potter felt eternally better after Byron Adams and Gavin Peterson were expelled from Hogwarts.

There had been some debates over whether or not they were actually responsible behind leaving Rosalie alone in the Forbidden Forest. Not only was it strictly against school rules to even enter the forest this time of season, but their actions almost had fatal results. Obviously the punishment for whoever was responsible was going to be extreme. Not that they didn't deserve it.

Professor McGonagall, no matter how much she trusted James' words, could not decide the verdict until Rosalie woke up and was fully aware of everything, in her right state of mind.

Those days drove James crazy. Classes ensued, and seeing Adams and Peterson in the corridors, walking around freely, made him sick.

When Rosalie did wake up, she was still under the influence of the potions. So they had to wait one more day before McGonagall could actually do anything about it.

James was on edge for the entire duration.

And finally, Rosalie's words were taken very seriously and the two Gryffindors who were responsible for nearly killing her were sent back to London, never to come back.

He was glad the whole ordeal was settled, even though he knew it would never be truly over.

Students were still whispering about it, and it made him slightly uncomfortable. But he decided to just ignore everyone else, and focus on moving forward.

* * *

><p>"Madame Pomfrey, can't I go now?" I said, struggling to keep my voice calm.<p>

She sniffed, not looking up from her desk. "I said in an hour, Miss Flint. I haven't changed my mind since the last time you asked, two minutes ago."

Staring up at the infirmary ceiling, I was desperate for anything to entertain me. It was late in the afternoon, the setting sun's warm light shining through the window. Classes were over now by now, and at this time, I would have probably been getting ready to eat supper in the Great Hall.

Easter was creeping up on me. It would be the first holiday that I didn't spend with my family, and the feeling was relieving but also cold. Easter was next Sunday, right after the final game of the tournament on Friday evening. I had already earned Madame Pomfrey's consent to play, after plenty of pleading, even though she wasn't quite happy about it.

Goosebumps formed on the surface of my skin, just thinking about the tournament. It sent absolute chills down my spine. I was more than ecstatic, and beyond nervous, and totally overwhelmed with plenty of different sensations.

Playing Hufflepuff would be breezy, if everyone had the right mind set. It's when you become too cocky that victory slips from your grasp. But all of my hard work depended on _this_ game. Everything I had done, everything I had sacrificed... it would all be in vain if we didn't win this game.

It was invigorating and a means of motivation, but also nerve wracking.

When Madam Pomfrey finally permitted me to leave the infirmary, I changed into some casual clothing and hurried towards the Great Hall, craving real, hot food. While imprisoned in the blasted place, I was only allowed to have simple and easy foods to chew. I was pampered like an infant, much to my distaste.

Pushing the door open, the smell of food hit me hard. But before I could hunt down a seat in the crowded mess hall, I was assaulted by a small individual.

I groaned on contact, falling a step backwards and craning my neck to try to identify the attacker. I was startled when I recognized Kate's blond locks, and my limbs became stiff, unsure of how to react.

The embrace felt strange. To feel someone's arms wrapped around you, and to have them so close to you, is a different experience. Mother and Father had never hugged me as a child. Sure, they kissed my cheek, which was supposed to be a sign of affection, but it was cold and distant. And being embraced by Matthias could hardly be compared to a hug from Kate.

Tentatively, I returned the hug, awkwardly patting her back.

"Uh, hi Kate," I said as she pulled away with a huge smile on her face.

Jared, who had come up behind her, offered me a small grin. "She's been sitting by the door for an hour, waiting for you. She wanted to be the first to see you."

It meant more to me than anything ever had. I paused for a moment, and then returned her smile. "Thanks Kate."

Her hands flitted around quickly, and Jared translated. "She wants to know how you're feeling."

My cheeks flushed; I wasn't used to all of the attention she was giving me. "I'm much better, thank you for asking." My stomach began to rumble, and I was reminded of my hunger. "But I'm starving, so I'm going to get some food. But," I closed, "it was nice. To see you two, I mean."

Eyes wandering, I found a seat at the end of the Slytherin table, and quickly gathered a plate full of food. But my solitude was short lived, as another person came over to me, greeting me.

"Rose!" Albus said, clapping my back as he approached me. "How're you feeling?"

"Much better," I told him truthfully.

"That's really good," he said, giving me a smile.

I smiled back.

People continued to come up to me and ask me how I was doing. Some of them I knew, most of them I didn't. If I had felt anything negative coming out of the infirmary, it had evaporated by now.

Soon, I gathered myself together and made my way to the Slytherin common room. I was desperate for some time alone, and while having a number of people asking about you is touching, I was running out of ways to politely respond to them. I wanted to be left alone, just for a short while.

I quickly ran a shower in the girls' bathroom, stepping in and enjoying the hot sensation of the rushing water. I washed and scrubbed every single inch of my body, trying to get rid of the smell of the infirmary that lingered on my skin. After I got out, I stood before a long mirror, and observed my damaged body for the first time since the forest.

There was a scar on my forehead, running from my hairline to the corner of my right eye. It had faded significantly from Madam Pomfrey's many treatments, but it was still visible, and it still marred my face in an ugly way. On my thigh, three harsh claw lines trickled down from my thigh to the top of my knee. I winced, remembering the pain that had been caused by the wolf's jagged and apical talons.

Shaking my head and willing myself to glance away, I unraveled the towel that had been wrapped around the top of my head.

And then I screeched in complete and utter horror.

* * *

><p>"My hair. It's black and yellow!" I screamed, throwing my hands into the air furiously.<p>

Kate and Jared burst into laughter at my appalled expression. "Hufflepuffs aren't as kind as everyone would assume," Jared said simply. "They're tricky, they are."

"_MY HAIR IS BLACK AND YELLOW_."

"I wonder who's responsible," Jared said, stroking his chin. Kate followed suit, and they looked absolutely ridiculous together.

But not as ridiculous as my hair.

Practically seething, I stomped my foot. "You both know who did this, don't you?! Tell me! I will give them hell! Oh, Merlin's saggy balls, this can't stay in my hair for the tournament!"

"I have a feeling it will," Kate signed, which Jared translated out loud.

"You guys are no help!" I snapped, stalking back down the corridors. I had wasted a lot of time banging on the Hufflepuff common room entrance, screaming for someone to come out. Apparently, all of the Hufflepuffs were afraid to face me, so they had to search for Jared and Kate.

By then, it was nearly after hours, and I was somewhat thankful that no one else was around to witness the atrocity that was my hair.

Hufflepuff was going to suffer my wrath tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Albus Potter has done it! He's caught the snitch! Slytherin wins!"<p>

I ran a hand through my hair and then threw both of my arms up in victory, screaming on the top of my lungs as I landed on the ground quickly and gathered my team together. They all leapt off of their brooms and joined the huge embrace, acting like they almost liked each other for just a moment, jumping up and down in victory.

We had won.

I felt a giant knot in my stomach release, and every pain and struggle and sacrifice I had put into this team paid off. I couldn't have been happier about how we played, how we won. I felt like I was on top of the world.

"Get ready Gryffindor!" Albus yelled loudly, a huge smile on his face and a twinkle in his green eyes. "We're coming for you next!"

"They've done it!" Siobhan Finnigan's voice boomed over all of the cheering and clapping. "Slytherin has done it! They're going to the finals! They'll be competing against Gryffindor for the trophy! Next weekend, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will be playing for third place..."

"Finals here we come!" Vandevort yelled, grinning. It was the first time I'd ever seen Corrin smile genuinely. It was weird, and slightly creepy, but I guess we had finally done enough to earn it.

"Albus, you're bloody amazing!" I told him, shoving him. "You're bloody amazing."

He gave me a shining smile, his green eyes wide with shock and happiness, like he couldn't believe he had pulled the final string that would give us a one way ticket to the finals, as the rest of the team congratulated him.

I turned to shake the hand of the Hufflepuff captain, who wasn't quite pleased about being within 100 kilometers of me. But I could have cared less at the moment. And he did seem to greatly enjoy the new color of my hair.

We celebrated our victory in the common room. There was a lot of yelling, really loud music, and plenty of firewhiskey. But I found myself growing exhausted, and retreated to my dorm room for the night, feeling incredibly happy.

* * *

><p>"You played a good game yesterday."<p>

I jumped up and swerved around. I was surprised that anybody had found me in my hiding spot within the library. Normally, people overlooked my tiny crevice. I looked up to see Louis Weasley staring down at me, a contemplative expression on his face.

"Hi Louis," I said calmly, even though I didn't feel settled at all. We hadn't spoken since the Valentine's Day ball, more than a month and a half ago. Guilt flooded me as I stood up and brushed off my skirt. "Thanks."

"How are you feeling?" he asked sincerely.

"I'm fine, really."

Louis' blue eyes glanced at the scar on my forehead. His expression was unreadable. I couldn't tell why he was here, talking with me, and it made me feel uneasy.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" he asked bluntly. His voice wasn't accusatory or convicting, which helped me remain composed.

His down-to-business posture and unquestionable tone of voice were admirable. I remembered briefly that when I'd first became acquainted with Louis, I'd been impressed by his bluntness.

I didn't try to deny his claim. He was too intelligent, and to try to deny his statement would be insulting. Instead, I said to him with a hint of remorse, "It's got nothing to do with you."

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't have a problem explaining the situation to me?"

Sighing, I looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes. "Remember the ball?"

He nodded.

"I never fell ill that night. I lied to you. Directly in your face."

"I know."

It didn't surprise me. "Who told you?"

"One of my mates saw you and James together. I always knew that you had something for him." He scratched the back of his head as he shrugged. "I can't say it didn't piss me off, but I guess I should have seen it coming."

Swallowing, I said, "I'm truly sorry about that. It wasn't right for me to do that."

"'It's alright," he said to me, his blue eyes clear and observant as they watched me.

Clapping my hands together, I said to him, "No, it's not. I shouldn't have left you."

Louis studied me for a moment. Then, he stuck out his hand and said, "Friends?"

Tentatively, I took it. "Sure. Friends."

We shook on it, then our hands fell back to our sides.

"So, out of curiosity, how is it going with my dear cousin James?"

"In all honesty, I'd rather not talk about it at the moment. Why? Simply because I don't have an answer for you."

* * *

><p>"Aw, your hair is back to it's original color. It looked good with those yellow streaks," James began. "But, I do have to admit, it would have looked better if it had been red and gold."<p>

"Shut up," I said, narrowing my eyes.

He cleared his throat as we began to walk down the hallway. It felt good to start our rounds. It felt normal, and all I wanted was something normal for the time being.

"So... Easter is coming up," he mentioned.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Yeah. Right after our victory party."

"Wait, I don't think so," he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. "I think your mean after _our_ victory party."

"Whatever floats your boat, Potter."

Silence ensued for a few moments. While we were walking, his arm gently brushed mine and a warm feeling engulfed me. I had to use all of my strength to keep myself from blushing.

"What are you going to do? For Easter, I mean."

Shrugging, I glanced at him. "Stay at Hogwarts. Study."

"That sounds so awful," he said bluntly.

"I don't have many options," I admitted.

His arm brushed mine again and it drove me crazy. It shouldn't have affected me in such a drastic way, but it did, and I couldn't say that I hated the sensation.

"Yes you do. Have options," he started.

Giving him a questioning look, I asked him, "What do you mean?"

"Come to our house for Easter," he offered suddenly. "That way, you won't be alone, and you can, you know. Test it. See if you want to stay the summer with us."

Taken aback, I digested his idea, coming to a halt. He stopped in front of me shortly, waiting to see my reaction.

"Your house?"

"That's what I said," he answered quickly.

I rubbed my hand over my face. "James, I don't know. Do your parents-?"

"They're fine with it," he interrupted. "Come on, we both know you don't want to be alone, studying, for the holidays. And it'll be fun! And please, Rosalie."

Our eyes met. He was watching me, trying not to seem anxious, but failing. His brown orbs shifted from my eyes to the ground, and then back up to meet mine again.

"Okay," I said, nodding, slightly awkward. I scratched the back of my neck. "Okay, that sounds... really nice, actually. Yeah. You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" he said enthusiastically, his lips cracking his infamous crooked grin. "Good! Good, good, good. I mean... that's cool. You're going to love it, Rose. We go to the Burrow, and eat loads of food - Grandma Weasley cooks the best -, and play lots of Quidditch."

"Sounds like fun," I said, smiling up at him.

James laughed. Before this year, I had never really heard him laugh. I'd heard him chortle, or snicker, but I'd discovered his real laugh, his happy one. It was loud, and cheery, and it made me want to laugh too.

"Can you believe it?" he said suddenly, looking at me. "Would you have ever imagined us like this, at the beginning of the year?"

I reflected on our relationship, prior to that year, and I shook my head.

"Me, inviting you to spend Easter with my family. Laughing together. It's weird." He paused. "But you know, I kind of like it."

"Kind of?" I challenged.

"Kind of_ a lot_," he mended with a smirk, and he took a step closer to me.

My breathing hitched as I confessed, "I like it kind of a lot, too."

"We've been through a lot this year," he said thoughtfully, breaking eye contact with me to look up at the high ceiling. "You and I. We used to loathe each other. We were enemies."

The humor had left his tone of voice, and I could practically hear my heart beat thudding within my rib cage. "What are we now?" I ventured to ask.

His eyes flickered to mine once more.

And he leaned down and kissed me. It was short, sweet, and over in the blink of an eye. I wouldn't have believed it was real, if my lips weren't still tingling from the contact.

Our faces were close, almost too close. I could feel his warm breath. He smelled like spearmint, and I found the familiar scent to be comforting.

"A screwed up mess," he concluded. "But a happy screwed up me."

I brought my lips up to his again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: First off, let me start with I'm so terribly sorry for the long wait. I haven't been updating my HG fanfiction, either, and it's because there's just been thing after thing going on, and I didn't want to update if I knew that the chapter were going to be crappy (because they were - I attempted several times but nothing ever stuck). Even this chapter, before I rewrote it, was just not what I wanted. **

**So I did re-do it, and I hope it's to your liking. **

**Words cannot describe to you how sorry I am. I promise I am working on the ending for this story RIGHT NOW, and there will be two or three more chapters, and then an epilogue. Most likely something about Rosalie and James after Hogwarts. **

**Please, please, please forgive me. I know, I am a horrible person for leaving you guys like that. **


	31. Ingenuous

**(The previous chapter was re-written, so please read it before continuing! Thanks :))**

**Chapter 30 - Ingenuous**

The Quaffle came flying towards me, and I snatched it into my arms, swerving around Liz McLaggen and hurling the wooden ball through the highest hoop, just out of Evelyn Wood's grasp.

"Rosalie delivers another 10 points to Slytherin!" Siobhan's voice boomed. "Gryffindor and Slytherin are now tied at 30-30!"

Sweat dripped down my flushed cheeks. Fingers clutching the shaft of my broom, my cloaks billowed behind me as I spun around and started heading back towards our side of the pitch, searching for the Quaffle.

With a deafening crack, I watched as James batted a Bludger towards Vandevort. Eliott Guff was quick, though, and deflected the enchanted ball, sending it away from Corrin, who swooped down to intercept a pass between Johnathon Thomas and McLaggen.

"It's going to be a close one," Siobhan observed from the stands. "They're both going to fight until they're bleeding and numb."

Her words rang with truth. It was a nasty game; it seemed as though Wood was sporting a sprained ankle, Scorpius' pallid skin was bruised in several different places, and Goforth had tried to take out our keeper, and was almost successful. Cadmus Galloway was trying to stay strong, but the Bludger had hit him in the shoulder with alarming speed and force.

Corrin tossed me the Quaffle and I quickly passed it back, barely missing a head-on collision with Thomas. She dropped it down to Scorpius, who flung it at the middle hoop. Wood caught it before it soared through the goal and threw it to Weasel, who took off with it.

I cursed loudly as he scored 10 more points for Gryffindor.

"Flint has some very rude things to say about that goal. _Sorry McGonagall_. Fred Weasley hits home, scoring 10 points!"

Scowling at Siobhan, I tried to find Albus. I watched as Roxanne Weasley dove, her hand outstretched, chasing the Golden Snitch, while Albus remained hot on her tail, barely five centimeters behind her.

A Bludger came flying at me, and I flew out of the way, but it rebounded off of the stands and clipped my shoulder. I winced, but I didn't dwell on the pain for too long. I started after McLaggen, who was clutching the Quaffle to her chest, trying to pressure her into passing the ball. It worked, and she tried to hand it off to Weasley, but Malfoy soared between them, intercepting it and diving beneath the pair.

Zipping the other way, he deviated around Thomas and, with a strong thrust, threw the Quaffle through the center hoop. There was a satisfying ding as we scored ten points.

It went back and forth for a very long time. On more than several occasions, both teams dealt out penalties. It was getting nasty, and the sheer determination rolled off of each and every player. It was in their fluid movements, the sweat glistening on their skin, the force between each pass and shot, their grips on the shaft of their brooms. Every muscle was tense, every breath was heavy, every face was contorted with concentration and frustration.

I was going to go mad soon.

The score was at a nail-biting tie; every time someone scored, the other team would bounce back and even it again. We really were equal, one team no better than the other. Two hours in, and I was still buzzing and on edge, but another part of me was strained and entirely exhausted.

The crowd was in a frenzy; arguments were breaking out, and the cheering had risen to angry chanting. People were anxious and aggressive. The enmity between the houses was stronger than ever.

Every little detail was distracting. My eyes were flickering from the Quaffle to the Seekers to Siobhan sitting her booth. My fingers were quivering with anticipation. Every time the Quaffle entered my possession, I thought I was going to go into hyper drive.

My eyes found James, and I could just tell, he was feeling the exact same way.

The game was just killing everyone.

Vandevort rushed forward and pitched it through the higher Gryffindor hoop.

"10 points for Slytherin." The enthusiasm had escaped Siobhan's tone by now, her commentary almost dreary.

Wood retrieved the Quaffle tiredly, slinging it at Weasel, who carried it to the midpoint of the pitch, before dropping it to Liz.

Realization rang through me as I noticed something. Until the pattern was broken, we weren't going to go anywhere.

We had to be the ones to break it.

With a sudden burst of energy, I stole the Quaffle from McLaggen and steered underneath an oncoming Gryffindor beater, their face blurred from the adrenaline. I hurled it into the lowest hoop, missing Wood's open palm and extended fingers by centimeters.

"Flint scores again, Slytherin taking the lead by twenty points now! They've broken the streak!" Zeal laced her voice as Siobhan stood up, peering from her booth.

And the game became alive again.

Within a matter of minutes, the unbelievable words echoed throughout the entire arena. Siobhan roared, "Albus Potter has caught the Snitch! Slytherin has won the House Cup!"

The words bounced around in my head. We had done it. We'd won the Cup. I thought I was going to explode from the nerves, my stomach clenching with ecstasy._ Slytherin had won the House Cup._

I landed on the grass, and, all rivalries set aside, my entire team pounced on me. There were shouts of joy, and claps on the back, and sloppy embraces, and boisterous laughter. The crowds of students, who'd watched the game from the stands, filled the field and came to congratulate and celebrate with the players.

My heart fell for a moment though, as I remembered what winning meant: James losing. My eyes darted around, searching for him, but I couldn't find his tall and sturdy frame anywhere in the mobs of people.

Until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Turning on my heel, I came face to face with the Gryffindor captain. I was at a loss of words, for a moment. Students pressed into my back as they tried to maneuver around us.

Clearing his throat, he stuck out his hand. "Good game, Flint."

"You too, Potter." I shook it gently.

"You... you were amazing, and your team did a fantastic job."

I let a smirk creep onto my lips, no matter how hard I tried to suppress it. "It's killing you to say this, isn't it?"

He took a deep breath, and then grinned. "Yes. Yes it is."

"You don't have to. Anyway, you guys were equally good, you know."

"I know."

I laughed.

"Come on, Flint! Stop making goo goo eyes at Potter!" Vandevort yelled to me. "Victory party in the common room! And you aren't allowed to be anti-social and skip!"

Her fingers curled around my forearm, not harshly but not too gently either, and she started to tug me away. And before I could get in another word, my entire team had lifted me off of the ground, and they were actually carrying me to the party.

"_Flint! Flint! Flint_!" People cheered around me.

Cheeks flushing red, unused to the positive attention, I screamed, "PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT! VANDEVORT! ROLAND! YOU IDIOTS!"

"_Flint! Flint! Flint_!"

* * *

><p>"You're sure?"<p>

"Yes."

"You're parents are sure?"

"Yes, Rosalie."

"And Albus and Lily-."

"Oh, bloody hell, Rose, just get off the train."

With an indignant huff, I stepped off of the Hogwarts Express and tentatively looked around the platform. I didn't see Harry and Ginny Potter, but James was certain that they were here somewhere.

James followed close behind me, both mine and his trunks in his hands. We had fought over who'd carry mine for an entire five minutes.

"You two already fight like an old married couple," Albus had muttered as he'd passed us.

"Neither of us asked for your opinion!" I'd sipped. But once I'd realized that James wasn't going to budge, I'd grudgingly, thanked him, and he'd given me that victorious beam.

"I see them!" he cheered, eyes targeting a couple. I matched his gaze and spotted the pair, who waved at him enthusiastically and made their way over to us.

"James!" Harry said, hugging James tightly. "Good to see you, son."

Ginny kissed him affectionately on the forehead and hugged him tightly.

"Miss Flint, it's a pleasure to see you again." Harry stuck out his hand for me to shake.

I obliged hesitantly. "You too, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, I'll have none of that. Please, call me Harry."

Biting my lip, I said, "Alright, Harry."

Very rarely had I ever addressed an adult by their first name before. The greeting was unfamiliar on my tongue, and foreign to me. But, it filled me with a sense of friendship, and though it was peculiar, it felt nice.

Ginny wrapped her arms around me, tugging me into a hug. "Good to see you, Rosalie!"

I stiffened, before lightly returning the embrace. "You too, Mrs.-"

"Ginny."

"Ginny," I repeated.

She withdrew from the hug and turned to welcome Lily into her arms, who had run up to us from the train, trunk being tugged along behind her. Harry went to retrieve it with a smile.

Albus jumped out from the crowd and the cycle was repeated. A pat on the back from Harry, and then a kiss and a hug from Ginny.

"Come on, then," Harry gestured towards us. "Let's be going."

I trailed behind the Potter family with James by my side, a silly smile on his face. "This is going to be awesome," he said, nodding his head.

My lips twitched, before breaking out into my own grin. "Yeah, I think it will be. Just, one question: Where are we going?"

"To the parking lot?" He noticed my pause, and, after a moment, asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Why are we going to the parking lot?"

"To get in a car..." He gave me a look.

"Like... an automobile?"

James let out a loud chortle. "Yes, an _automobile_. Do you have a problem with _automobiles_?"

"Now you're just making fun of me." A thoughtful expression had filled my face and I turned to peer in front of us. "I've never been in a muggle car before. I've never really seen one up close."

Glancing at me, James replied, "Really? You've never been in a_ car_? That's so weird!"

"No, it's not," I said defensively.

"Well, you have absolutely nothing to worry about."

The truth was, I didn't know much about the muggle world, much less anything about _cars_. Of course, I'd read about them in newspapers and books, but I'd never actually seen one up close before. The concept was strange to me.

As I walked by rows and rows of these cars, my eyes were wide and keen with apprehension. Albus gave me a questioning look, to which James replied with, "She's never seen a car before."

Albus started laughing, but I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to him.

Harry pried a set of keys from his coat pocket and tapped a button. The car we were standing in front of honked and, shocked and taken by surprise, I leapt back and yelped.

The Potters all stopped what they were doing, and then broke into laughter.

"Don't worry, Rosalie, I felt the same way about _magical_ objects when I started at Hogwarts," Harry said with a chuckle. He popped open the back on his vehicle and they started piling the suitcases into the back. "Everyone in."

Lily and Albus clambered into the back, and James took the seat behind Harry, while I was positioned behind Ginny.

"Oh, by the way Rosalie, congratulations on winning the House Cup," Ginny said happily. "I heard it was a fierce game!"

"Well, we couldn't have done it without our fantastic seeker."

"I'm blushing," Albus snorted from behind me.

"They only beat us by this much," James inserted, pinching his fingers to emphasize how close the game was.

"But we still beat you, nonetheless," Albus chirped.

James scowled.

* * *

><p>The Potter's house wasn't what I had expected it to be.<p>

With the Potters' standing in the Wizarding World and their monstrous wealth, I had just assumed that they lived in an expensive and luxurious home, in a notorious wizarding community, much like my old home had been.

As I stepped out of the car (which had been a tremendous experience - very different compared magical transportation), my eyes ran over the medium-sized, quaint cottage, the front well hidden behind a carefully tended rose bed. It was picturesque, like an illustration from a storybook.

Turning around slowly, I examined their street: narrow but nicely paved. Houses lined up on either side of the road, perfectly positioned so they were not too close to their neighbors. The houses were all similar styles to the Potters', and most had fences framing their lawns. At the end of the drive was a culdesac, and several children were out playing, enjoying the cool spring air.

"What d'you think?" James questioned, nudging me with his elbow.

"It's beautiful," I said, my eyebrows knit together.

He beamed. "I thought you'd like it."

"By the time you all get your things upstairs and get settled in, I'll have lunch on the table," Ginny said with a smile. "Rosalie, you'll be rooming with Lily Luna. She has bunk beds in her room. If that's not a problem."

"No, of course not."

With a nod, Ginny used a key to unlock her front door and disappeared into her home.

Harry popped open the back of his car again, and retrieved our trunks, handing them out one by one. "So, Rosalie, how was your first car ride?"

"Really... interesting."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling. "Here's your trunk. Lils, why don't you show her to your room?"

The little ginger girl's eyes brightened, and she waved her hand at me. "Come, I'll show you my bedroom!"

I hadn't spoken with Lily Potter often, not since the whole incident with Antonin Dolohov. But she acted as if I were her best friend as she led me into her house and up a flight of stairs.

"There's the loo," she chattered, pointing to a door on the left. "That's James' room, Albus' room, Mum and Dad's room, and my room!" She threw her door open and revealed a tidy and small bedroom, the walls painted a light pink color and decorated with many posters, mostly related to Quidditch. "I always sleep on the top bunk, so you'll be sleeping on the bottom bunk."

"Thank you," I said, lifting my small trunk and putting it on my temporary bed. "How old are you, Lily?"

"Twelve," she answered, and then added, with some thought, "But I'll be thirteen next September."

"Officially a teenager," I said with a tentative smile.

Lily nodded enthusiastically. "I know! I can't wait. How old are _you_?"

"Sixteen," I replied, sitting gently on the bed.

She jumped into her desk chair. "Cool, like James."

"Yes, I guess."

Lily began to mindlessly babble, and I did my best to keep up. Really, I didn't have much experience with younger kids. As I watched the bright-eyed girl, I realized how precious children were. She was bubbling with naivety and innocence, full of light and imagination. It was sweet and relieving.

The door opened and James' head popped in. "Lily, honestly, stop chewing Rosie's ear off."

"Don't you dare call me Rosie."

"Anyway, lunch in on the table."

As we both stood, Lily said cheerfully, "I'm glad you're hear, Rosalie. It'll be cool sharing a room with you. Just like sisters or something!"

Grinning fondly at her, I said, "Yeah. Just like sisters."

The contrast between the Potters and the Flints went deep. Even just eating a meal with the Potters was drastically different than sharing a meal with my family. The atmosphere was so alive and so happy. No one wore a frown or a grim expression; they were all glowing with happiness and cheerfulness, sharing stories from their previous year at Hogwarts.

"And get this: McGonagall said she'd teach me how to become an Animagus, if I get an O in Clidona's class!" James announced happily.

"Awesome!" Harry cheered supportively.

"No fair!" Lily pouted.

I watched the conversation bounce back and forth between the family members, pleasantly comfortable with just listening.

It stung, a little bit, realizing what I had missed, growing up. I vaguely wondered how different I would be if my parents had been as kind and encouraging as Harry and Ginny. If they had been more open and relaxed and genuine.

Would I have turned out to be like little Lily, cheery and ingenuous?

Guess I would never know.

But things had turned out well for me, in the end, although fate had used an interesting way of bringing that future upon me. As I sat at the table with the Potters, I realized that all of the hell I'd been through that past year didn't matter anymore. Because now I was happy.

And that was what mattered.

"Thanks for making lunch," I began. "Mrs.-"

She gave me a pointed look.

"Thanks for lunch, Ginny."

She smiled. "You're welcome, Rosalie."

I folded my hands mindlessly. "And thank you guys. For letting me stay here. It's terribly kind of you to do so."

Harry waved a hand dismissively. "I know what it's like, not having a home to go back to for the holidays. During my time at Hogwarts, I spent most Christmas and Easter holidays at the Burrow. It's our pleasure, Rosalie."

* * *

><p>The sun was setting, and the horizon had faded into a light, airy red. On the other side of the sky, I could see the ivory moon as it began to show its pallid face. The air was cool and nipped lightly at the tip of my nose and ears, blowing my hair over my shoulders and forcing me to bury my face in my coat collar.<p>

James had decided to take me on a walk and show me his community. I had discovered from Lily that they lived in a muggle neighborhood, and the new bit of knowledge had piqued my interest. My eyes raked over every detail, curiosity rolling off of me in waves.

"It's not much," James said, after a moment of silence. "But Dad really wanted to live in a quiet neighborhood, separated from the Wizarding World."

"I can understand that," I said. "And I like it. It's so peaceful and... still."

"So, what do you think of the old Ma and Pops?"

"They're so happy. It's weird."

James gave me a look.

"No, it's not a bad thing!" I reiterated. "Not at all. I'm just not used to it. It's actually very pleasant. It makes me happy."

"I see." He chewed his lower lip absently, and noted, "The sun set's pretty."

Humming in agreement, my eyes studied the skyline and the delicate pastel colors. I could feel his gaze on me and, cracking a small smile, I turned to face him as we continued to shuffle along. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugged. "No reason."

"Come on. Tell me. Do I have something on my face or something?"

"No it's not that," he answered with a chortle. "Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?"

My breath suddenly stolen from me, I said to him, "Uh, no."

"Well, you're the most beautiful girl I know." Then, he added with a pause and a grin, "Well, after Mum."

"Oh."

"Aaaand," he continued, dragging out the 'and'. "I think you should be my girlfriend, though _girlfriend_ doesn't seem to be the right word. After everything we've been through this year... I feel like you're more. But it's never been established, and I think that we should. Establish it."

We had now come to a complete stop, and were standing opposite of each other on the sidewalk. I looked at him curiously, eyes wide and keen. "You want me to be your girlfriend? Me?"

"Well, yeah." James scratched the back of his neck. "Is that weird?"

I mulled over that question for a moment. Was it weird? James, my boyfriend?

"No, it's normal," I eventually told him, inching closer to him and him towards me as we began to fill in the gap between us. "And, you know what? I think I could use a little bit of normalcy in my life right now."

His long, spindly fingers reached out to touch my cheek. The small contact sent tremors though my body, driving my senses into a frenzy. Breathlessly, I allowed him to cup my cheek and kiss me softly.

It was the third kiss we'd shared, yet it was still just as powerful as the first. I felt as light as air as I wrapped myself around him, breaking from the kiss and molding myself into him.

"Oh and yes. _I think_ I want to be your girlfriend."

I felt him smile at my choice of words.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, so I'm thinking of just maybe making this the last chapter, and then closing the story with an epilogue. Honestly, I loved writing this story, but I think it's time for it to come to a close. Leave a review! Tell me what you thought of the chapter. Was it boring or too fluffy? And how did I write the Quidditch scene? I'm HORRIBLE when it comes to writing Quidditch, so I was concerned with that. **


	32. Your Song

**A/N: I am so sorry for my absence... please don't hate me. This chapter was inspired by Your Song by Ellie Goulding :) Go and listen to it!**

**Chapter 31 - Your Song**

It was dark. Beads of sweat had collected on my forehead. My breathing was labored, and my eyelids were heavy with sleep and restlessness. I was laying down, staring across the room at the opposite wall with a frantic gaze. My hands grasped at the sheets underneath me. Hair stuck to the back of my neck and to my clammy chest.

My thoughts were incoherent, a million things rushing through my mind in complete chaos. Images filled my head, replaying over and over again.

And then reality washed over me, offering me it's cool and relieving hand.

Lily Potter's room. That was where I was. I could hear her gently breathing above me in her bunk.

Sitting up, I steadied myself and realized that I'd pulled the sheets from the mattress, and that they were balled up beneath me. My stomach was in a knot, and I couldn't bring my vision into focus.

I took a moment to gather myself, forcing myself to take long and calming breaths. As my chest rose and fell in a consistent pattern, I could feel my anxiety begin to unravel, and my stomach release it's clenching knots. I swept a quivering hand over my damp face, my fingers lightly tracing the scar that ran from the corner of my eye to my jaw line.

It was no shock that after everything that I had seen and been through over the past few months that'd I'd be left scarred, both physically and emotionally. After waking up in the infirmary, the memories had been foggy and tainted. But the evening following my release from Madame Pomfrey's care, they started to plague my mind. When there was something to distract me, I could easily forget the frightening memories. But, when I was laying by myself at night, in a stranger's bed, there was nothing to keep me from opening that door.

The nightmares were the worst. I was forced to relive every touch and kiss Matthias had given me, finding Lily Potter suffering at the hands of Dolohov, the night I spent in the Forbidden Forest with the Baltazart Winter Wolf. They were real, so vivid and clear. The pain of the serrated claws, the discomfort at Matthias' caress.

I would wake up completely confused and distressed, like I couldn't tell the difference between reality and dream. It took an inordinate amount of time to convince myself that I wasn't really in trouble.

With the nauseousness fading, I fixed my blankets and pressed my cheek into my pillow. It was damp from sweat. I turned to my other side and stared at the pink wall blankly. Hugging the sheets to my chest, I tried to think of the situation at hand and put my thoughts in order.

Tomorrow (or perhaps today, depending on the hour), I would be going to the Weasley's Burrow. After being at odds with the Potters and Weasleys for so long, it was hard for me to assume anything. Would it be loose and fun, or formal? I had brought a nice dress, just in case. I figured I would ask Lily about it in the morning.

The Potters were perhaps the kindest family I had ever met. And they're weren't just unbelievably nice, but they were also selfless, considerate, and fiercely loyal. They made you feel warm inside, all the way through to the core. I couldn't stop comparing them to my family, and the more I did so, the more I also realized how horrible and cold my family had been, and I had been. How unhappy and selfish and cruel we'd been. And the strangest thing was to think that I'd thought that I'd been right.

That revelation was chilling, yet relieving at the same time. I was no longer striving to be that person, and that made me feel better. I was happy.

As I laid in my bed, thinking, my eyes shut subconsciously, and I drifted into a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>"Wow, you look so pretty," Lily commented sweetly, eyeing my dress. Apparently, Grandma Weasley was very insistent on dressing nicely every year, and required all of her children and grandchildren - and their guests - to wear semi-formal attire. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd thought of bringing that dress.<p>

It wasn't my favorite dress, overall, but it was light and easy to fit into my trunk. It also covered the ugly scars on my thighs. It was a knee-length and sleeveless light, pink dress, with a pattern of white roses decorating it, and completed with a thin black belt. It had a halter top, with a neat bow tied behind my neck.

But Lily had advised me to bring a change of clothes, for when we played Quidditch. "You don't want to get your pretty dress ruined," she had warned.

"So do you," I replied, glancing at her own gown. It was a light shade of pastel yellow, reaching mid-thigh with lace sleeves. It fit her childish frame suitably.

She beamed. "Thanks! Hey, can I do your hair?"

"My hair?"

"Yeah, I just learned how to do this really cool braided hairstyle!" She paused, before adding, "Unless you don't like people... doing that kind of stuff."

Taken aback slightly by her request, I swallowed before telling her, "Of course."

Lily grinned. "Alright, sit over here in the desk chair."

Her spindly fingers worked with expertise as she began to separate my hair. Lily remained silent as she labored, her concentration fully focused on the task at hand. There was no mirror, so I couldn't watch her while she did my hair. But having the tips of her fingers threading through my hair and brushing my scalp felt relaxing.

With observant eyes, she circled around me, fixing my thick, dark locks into a hairstyle I wasn't familiar with. When she stepped back, she seemed terribly satisfied with herself. The twelve year old gestured towards my head, and stated, "_Voila_!"

My hands tentatively reached up and touched my hair. Most of it was still down, but running over the crown of my head, like a headband, was a neatly woven braid. She'd clipped it behind my ear, holding the rest of my cascading hair back.

"Well, go on! Go take a look." She ushered me to the door and waved me towards the toilet.

Bare feet padding against the carpet, I stepped down the hallway and into the bathroom fluidly. Turning my head slightly, I peered at my reflection in the mirror with a curious expression. Pleased with the results of Lily's work, I allowed myself to run my fingers through the finished product, a happy glimmer in my eyes.

"I love it," I told Lily when I re-entered her bedroom.

"Good!" she squealed, already working on her own ginger hair. She had pulled it to the side and was busy weaving it into her own creation.

Clearing my throat, I said, "I would offer to do your hair, but I'm absolutely rubbish at that kind of stuff."

"Really? Well, I could teach you sometimes. I do all of my cousin's hair, when they come over or at school. I wish I had a sister, though, so I could do her hair all the time."

Albus knocked on the door and peeked his face in. When he saw my hair, he groaned. "Lily Luna, Rosalie is not your doll!"

Crossing her arms, letting her own braid fall, finished, Lily said defiantly, "She said I could!"

He brought his green eyes to me.

"I did say she could," I admitted. "Plus, I think she did a beautiful job."

Lily gave her brother a _see-I-told-you_ look. He frowned slightly. "Anyway, we're flooing over to the Burrow now. Mum wants you in the living room."

"Okay, we're coming." As Albus disappeared, she turned to me. "Ready?"

Nodding, I walked over to my bed and slipped into the pair of simple flats that sat on the floor. Then, I retrieved my sweater and followed her out the door. It was much cooler in the hallway, compared to her bedroom. She led me down the stairs to the Potters' living room, smiling proudly when Ginny complimented my hair.

"I did it," she said happily.

"You did a very good job," she said endearingly.

Catching James eye, I watched as he did a once over, and I mirrored his actions. He was dressed nicely in a light, collared shirt and slacks, but his hair was as messy as ever. He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes, waving my hand.

"Come on, then, let's get going. Mum's going to throw a fit if we're late," Ginny commented, fixing her dress.

Clearing my throat, I listened as Lily volunteered to go first and stepped into the fireplace, gripping a handful of floo powder and shouting out her desired location. In a loud burst of green flames, she disappeared, leaving the fireplace empty.

"You next, Rosalie." Ginny pushed me towards the hearth. "Just repeat what Lily said. You've flooed before, right, darling? Remember to keep your elbows in and-."

"Your mum is showing," Albus said jokingly.

"Right, right. I'm just making sure."

Briskly, I stepped into the enclosed space, reaching for a handful of floo powder. I stuck my hand out in front of me and repeated Lily's words clearly, thrusting the dust at the ground. Before I could watch the glittery powder float to the floor of the fireplace, green erupted around me and I felt my body physically being whisked away. Breathless, I watched as different fireplaces appeared before me but disappeared just as quickly.

And then I jolted to a stop. Taking a stumbling step forward, I fixed the hem of my skirt distractedly, obsessively smoothing out all of the creases until the fabric was perfectly sleek.

That was when I realized that too many pairs of eyes were watching me.

"Dear, you're going to want to move out of the fireplace," said an older, ginger-haired woman. "Others will be arriving soon."

"Oh, yeah," I muttered stupidly, stepping out of the space swiftly.

My own eyes swept over the crowd of people.

Most of them shared the traditional, Weasley-red hair. It was easy to establish that they were related. Others, not so much. I recognized quite a few of the people around me: Fred, and his sister Roxanne. Louis and Dominique. Rose. And Scorpius, peering at me from her side. I threw him a questioning look, which he chose to ignore.

"Everybody, this is Rosalie, James' girlfriend," Lily chirped, taking my arm.

"Oh, I-." I couldn't deny it. "Yeah. Hi."

There was a moment of silence. Then, a boy with bright blue hair stepped out of the very curious crowd and said boisterously, "Happy Easter! Hmm, James has done well."

An arm wrapped around my shoulder, startling me, though I made no move to show it. I hadn't heard James arrive, being so preoccupied with his family staring right into my soul. Or so it felt like. I took a deep breath.

"Rosalie, meet Teddy. He's obnoxious, you might want to stay away from him."

"Oi!"

The rest of the Potters showed up quickly, and the older lady from before pointed at Ginny. "Late again! Every year, I swear Ginevra, it's like you do this on purpose! Hello, Harry dear, so nice to see you! Of course, I don't blame _you_. Lily Luna, you are almost as tall as me! I can't believe this. And Albus, don't even get me started on you and your brother."

"So close," Ginny whispered under her breath.

"Grandma, this is Rosalie," James said, pulling me towards her.

"Ah yes, the girl you used to talk about all of the time," she said, bustling over to me. She took my hand with both of hers and shook it firmly. "She's not as bad as you made her out to be. I told you, didn't I? I told you that you two would end up together. I told everyone that, yes I did."

I gave him a look. "Oh."

James looked at both of us with a crooked grin. "Ah, well..."

"I'm so happy you could join us," Grandma Weasley said cheerfully. "Alright, then, let me get a good look at you, James. Haven't seen you since Christmas! Oh, you look more and more like your grandfather James every day."

* * *

><p>"And there's the Ursa Major constellation," Louis said knowledgeably as we all stared up into the dark, starry sky.<p>

"The stars are so pretty," Lily cooed from beside him.

I looked at everyone around me, within my line of vision: James at my right side, peering at me with his smiling eyes. Molly and Lucy lying together on the green grass, shoulders touching. Lily and Louis opposite of them, her ginger hair fanned out around the crown of her head like a halo. Farther away, Rose and Scorpius lay together, whispering quietly to one another and laughing at their own jokes.

"What?" James asked curiously, when he caught my eye.

"I had fun today," I said thoughtfully, my voice in a low whisper.

"I'm glad. My family didn't weird you out too much, did they?"

I stifled a laugh. "No." Feeling around in the grass, my hand found his. I intertwined our fingers, turning my head away, looking back at the night sky. Bright stars adorned the horizon like diamonds against black velvet. "We have to go back to school tomorrow."

"Ew," he grumbled.

"James," I said, before pausing. I took a shallow breath. "We're going to tell everyone at school about us, right?"

I felt his hand clasp mine tighter, as a sign of assurance. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Well, I don't know. I was just making sure that you wanted them to know. Because if you didn't, I would understand." I chewed on my lower lip, eyes glazing over in thought.

"Of course I want them to know," he said. "I want everyone at Hogwarts to know that you are mine. Can't have anyone getting any idea now, can we?"

"Really?"

"Really really."

My eyes found his once more, and I offered him a small smile. "Okay."

"We'll make a grand entrance," he began, voice enthusiastic. "We'll burst through the front gates and everyone will stare in awe at us. And if anyone has anything negative to say about it, we'll tell 'em to shove it right up their arse."

I chortled, "Sure we will."

"And Cassiopeia," Louis continued from beside Lily. "And the Perseus constellation."

I was so content, laying there in the soft grass with James and his family. I felt whole. For a long time, I'd thought at I could never possibly feel whole. And I had tried to fill the vast emptiness in my heart with so many things, only to discover that the one thing that could fill it, I'd been pushing away for years.

Who could have ever thought that James Potter would complete me?


	33. Strangeness and Charm

**A/N: Thank you for sticking with this story, guys. Every one of you mean so much to me, and I am so happy that you have enjoyed reading. I'm beginning to wrap it up; forgive me if the appearances in this chapter are somewhat unexpected. I'm trying to tie up loose ends. Review and tell me what you think! **

**Chapter 32 - Strangeness and Charm**

"Really, Harry and Ginny, thank you so much."

"Well of course, darling," the red-headed woman said with a smile. She reached over to Harry and wrapped an arm around him lovingly.

I smiled in return, letting out a gentle sigh.

"We hope to see you this summer," she continued. "Lily loves you so much, as we all do."

"That would be wonderful," I said honestly.

"Good luck with your exams," Harry said, and then added, "I'm so glad I don't have to take them anymore."

"Harry!" Ginny said, slapping his shoulder.

He laughed.

Then, she released her husband, took a step towards me, and pulled me into a hug. I stiffened at the unfamiliar contact, before tenderly returning the embrace. She was warm, and she smelled of vanilla,and everything that a mother should smell of. Her right hand brushed over my dark hair as she said, "You are always welcome in our home, Rosalie."

Letting me go, she gave me a maternal smile, and I thanked her again.

"I got our trunks on the train," said James as he knifed through the crowds of Hogwarts students and their families, and appeared beside me. "We're leaving soon, so we better up."

"Bye James," Ginny said, giving her eldest son a tight hug. "Stay out of trouble, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Mum."

Harry opened up his arms for his son and James accepted the offer. The height difference between James and Harry was minimum, with James standing just an inch or two above his father.

"What she said," he told him with a grin.

After another brief moment, we departed from his parents and boarded the Hogwarts Express. Clouds of black smoke filled the air around us, and I was reminded of the beginning of the year, before my sixth year had begun. My eyes found the very spot where I'd said my goodbyes to my family; by one of the barriers, towards the far wall. I could picture clearly in my mind the looks on my mother and father's faces that day. I remembered the cold handshake my brother had given me.

I couldn't stop myself from wondering about them. Where they were right then. If they were in the very same room as I was, merely feet away from me, saying their distant farewells to Mariette.

But I didn't search for them. I didn't know if I wanted to see them. I supposed that I was afraid of them being happier without me.

* * *

><p>"Ugh, I'm so hungry I'm going to die," James muttered as we clambered into the carriages drawn by invisible beasts.<p>

"You are not going to die," I told him with an eye roll, crossing my legs beneath my heavy black cloaks. My hands patted my pocket, to ensure my wand was safely stowed away in the folds.

"I might."

"No, you won't."

"Well, what if-."

I gave him a look. "I am not going to start with you, Potter."

"Oh, and we're back to Potter," he said, slouching his shoulders so his head was level with mine.

"I'll tell you when we're back on a first name basis," I said, a half-grin sprouting on my lips, pushing him away.

The air was cool, its caress welcomed after the hours spent on the stuffy Hogwarts Express. The night sky was covered in a layer of dark clouds, unlike the previous evening at the Burrow, where the stars had been so vivid.

The carriage jolted, and my eyes flickered to the castle, glowing in the darkness like a beacon. We passed the road to Hogsmeade, and I suddenly remembered that I would have to speak with Madame Rosmerta about keeping my job at the Three Broomsticks. I began to fiddle with my hands, consciously starting to prepare a speech I would make for her.

I felt James' eyes on me.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just... you do this thing," he began. "You play with your fingers and suck in your cheeks when you're worried."

My eyebrows drew together at his speculations. "Oh. Yeah, I was just thinking about something." It occurred to me that he didn't know about my job at the little inn in Hogsmeade. "Something we can talk about later."

I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders, and I sighed as I leaned into him, molding our bodies together. When I was around him, I felt like the giant burden that clung to my back had evaporated, leaving me free to breathe. It was invigorating and freeing.

We hit a bump and we jostled together.

"I like being with you," I told him, the words rolling off of my tongue comfortably.

"I should hope so, with you being my girlfriend and all," he joked.

Smiling, I added, "It's just a little deeper than that. I feel free around you. I feel good."

"I feel like that around you, too, Rosalie."

And I knew he was telling the truth because he had addressed me by my full name, and he only did that when he was being serious.

"By the way, that offer is still on the table. You know, having you stay at our house for the summer. I talked to my dad, and he was fine with it. If you weren't too scared of my family." He added the last part lightly.

"I meant to talk to you about that, actually. I think that this summer... I'm going to search for my own place. A flat, somewhere in a Muggle city. Somewhere I've never been before, away from magic. Close to you, maybe," I said pensively. "But I'd love to visit you and your family during the holidays. And you could visit me."

James peeked at me from the corner of his eyes. "You really want a place of your own?"

Shrugging, I looked back at him. "Yeah. I mean, I want a place to call my home. And your house is lovely, but it's _your_ home."

He pursed his lips, before saying, "I understand. I could help you. Find a flat."

The carriage groaned as it came to stop in front of the school's gates. James threw himself over the edge, and lent me a hand, helping me down to the ground. "That would be lovely," I said. My eyes averted to the entrance of the stone castle. "So, this is it. Last time to back out."

His eyes narrowed and he took my hand, emphasizing his movements stubbornly. "Nope. You're kind of stuck with me."

I let him swing our arms as we walked up and into the school. I felt like I should be anxious, but how could I be anxious about something that felt so right and felt so good?

The corridors brought a mundane sense of normalcy that I hadn't realized I'd been craving. The portraits came alive on the walls, the painted figures joyously enjoying feasts in their own little realities. Students crowded the halls, keen eyes spying on James and I, whispering about our joined hands. But one statement stood out above the rest, and it made my cheeks glow for the rest of the evening:

"I knew it."

James started mumbling about food as we strolled into the Great Hall. I let him part from me to join his fellow Gryffindors, making brief eye contact with him before sitting at my own table, besides a familiar head of tousled black hair.

"Five minutes back and everyone's already talking about you and my brother." Albus groaned. "I can't get away from him, can I?"

I gave him a look. "What are they saying?"

He grinned lopsidedly. "Who cares? If he makes you happy, why should they have a say in any of it?"

Knowing that Albus was right, I sighed to myself and waited for Headmistress McGonagall to stand before us and welcome us back to Hogwarts. It was her typical speech, with a warning against going into the Forbidden Forest and something about the graduation celebration for seventh years. And then the feast commenced, food filling the platters on the table, hungry children eagerly reaching for anything to fill their plates.

My stomach grumbled, and I helped myself to a roll, before scooping some boiled potatoes and corn onto my own plate. The food smelled delicious, and as always, the House Elves didn't disappoint.

But, soon enough, an enormous wave of exhaustion rolled over me. I was reminded of my late night with James, just talking, the previous evening. It brought a smile to my lips. I silently excused myself from my house's table and wandered up the aisle. My hands flitted to Kate's shoulder, to say hello, and then I slipped through the large double doors.

It was dark, and quiet without the boisterous groups of students everywhere. I could hear my own feet shuffle against the cobble flooring as I walked towards the Slytherin Common Room, the stupid grin still lingering on my face.

"Look at you. So happy."

The voice was cold. It was resentful and livid. It was strikingly familiar, bringing chills down my spine and raising goosebumps on my arms like no one else's voice could. I stopped, the smile dropping from my face fast, my stomach dropping with it. I felt like my heart had jumped into my throat, and that I was choking.

He was behind me. He was too close; close enough for him to reach out and touch me.

"You haven't forgotten me, have you? Too busy with your new boyfriend, the fool Potter?" He laughed, as if it were humorous. "So petty. Please, look at me when I'm talking to you. Don't be so rude. Didn't your parents teach you proper etiquette? Oh, that's right. You don't have parents anymore."

I swerved on my heels, swallowing my urges to cower, facing him defiantly. "What do you want from me, Matthias Avery?"

A name I hadn't spoken in months. Someone I hadn't dared to think about for so long. I had let myself forget about him.

He was only a foot or so away from me. We were alone, surrounded by the empty hall, with no one to stop anything from going to far. "What a horrendous scar on your face." His traced it, his touch as light as a feather's. "It's quite unattractive."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion," I said sorely, taking a precautionary step back.

Matthias smiled, but there was no trace of happiness in it. A low chuckle emitted from him, his towering frame at least a foot taller than me. "I've heard you've gotten closer to that scum, Potter. And that you're friends with his filthy family, and that deaf bitch, Levesque. So much has changed about you, Rosalie. Where's the pure-blooded Slytherin that I knew so well?" He caressed my cheek. "That I loved?"

"You never loved me," I snapped, slapping his large hand away. "And that part of me is gone. I'm not like that anymore."

"That part of you never leaves," he informed me. "You just suppress it, until someone digs it out from the depths of you."

"What do you want from me?" I repeated scathingly.

"You didn't think I was actually done with you, did you?" That chilling smile emerged again. "I know it's been a long time, but I'll never be done with you."

My heart stopped beating. Why was I afraid of him? What could he do to me? How could I make him go away, and leave me alone? "Matthias, I want you to stop. I won't tell anyone if you just leave me be."

"Rosalie Flint, begging?" He barked with harsh laughter. "That's certainly new. There's a lot I don't know about you. Let's go get to know each other a little better."

My hands met his chest and I shoved him as hard as I could. "I have nothing for you. Leave me alone!"

His icy eyes, hard as steel, focused on me. "Get your hands off of me, bitch." The back of his hand slapped into my cheek, the blow knocking me to the side. My hands frantically searched for something to balance myself against, and I clutched the stone wall to keep myself from falling over. "It's my game. My rules. And I say let's go find somewhere more private. If I can recall correctly, we have some unfinished business."

Images of that evening filled my head, at the beginning of the year, sending violent chills through my body. But I wasn't that girl anymore. I wouldn't listen to him.

"I don't give two shits about your stupid games," I said, finding my way back to my feet, wiping the blood that had started to trickle from the corner of my mouth. "I said leave me alone."

"Did I ever tell you how delicious you are when you're stubborn?" he whispered, hovering over me, watching me like a lion watches its prey.

"Go away," I stated. I started to fumble for my wand, but it jostled out of my pocket and clattered to the floor. My hands were clammy, my skin growing hot.

"I can't tell if I liked you more when you were grovelling at my feet, or now, as the Forbidden Fruit."

Blood was pounding in my ears. Furiously, I hit him again, but it had no affect on him. The more I tried to resist his advances, the more fuel I added to the fire. His hands were on me, on my clothes. Where was everybody? Why were the corridors so empty?

"How dare you choose blood traitors over your own house. How dare you choose them over _me_."

"Matthias, leave her alone."

Another voice I hadn't heard for a long stretch of time. Calm, lethal, like a snake about to strike. Blake Zabini entered into view, his tall and dark form cloaked in heavy black robes.

Matthias stopped, eyes coldly sliding to Blake. "Did you want something, Zabini?"

"Yes. I want you to leave her alone."

"You cannot tell me what to do."

"I just did."

The air surrounding Blake was so eerily calm as he watched Matthias with black eyes. I felt, if I were to reach out and touch his skin, that it would be as cold as ice.

Matthias straightened his robes, stepping away from me and towards the other Slytherin. "You're damn lucky your father is a Zabini, or else I would beat the shit out of you, right here and now."

"Such foul language," he said carelessly. "Seems suitable for such a foul person."

"I beg your pardon?" he seethed.

"Leave the lady alone."

"She's hardly a lady," he snorted, pushing his blonde hair back.

Blake blinked heavily, staring at Matthias, waiting for him to do his will. The latter turned to face me again.

"Tell that idiot of a blood traitor I said hello," he snapped, giving me a sharp look.

And that was when I decided that I couldn't be afraid of him anymore. Everything he'd said and done to me was in the past, and this was the present. I stood up straight, setting my shoulders. "I'm not afraid of you." I pulled my arm back, and it snapped out, my fist connecting with his nose. Pain instantly shot up my arm, but it was worth the look of pure shock on his face as he stumbled two steps backwards, blood bursting from his nose.

"And don't talk about my boyfriend that way, you prejudiced asshat."

A flood of curses fumbled out of his mouth as Blake led him away from me, black eyes finding my hazel ones. He gave me a curt nod, before he started away. I briefly wondered about him, how he was, what he had been doing. For a moment, I missed him. As he went away, with the cursing Slytherin in tow, the thoughts faded away, leaving me with my injured hand.

_"Fucking bitch. Fucking punched by bloody face. Bloody fucking hell."_

* * *

><p>"You punched Avery. In the face." James had stopped asking questions now, and had resigned to just blatantly repeating everything I had reported to him about the previous night.<p>

I growled, "Yes, how many times do I have to say it?"

"Well, if he didn't like you before, he certainly will loathe you now," he contributed unhelpfully.

"Thank you, as if I didn't know that already."

Tenderly, in a way I had always thought he wasn't capable of, he lifted my bandaged hand. We were sitting together, side by side, on the library floor, underneath a shelf of books. It was my corner, the one I typically hid myself in. I had let him join me, and books were sprawled out in front of us. The first day back was always the hardest.

"I tried to heal it myself," I said lowly, watching as he observed it. "But I only made it worse, so I went to Madame Pomfrey. She gave me a potion, and told me that I could take it out of the bandages in two days. I broke two knuckles, but she told me that I broke his nose, so I'm okay with it."

"Why did you do it? Punch him in the face?"

Letting the bitter expression fall from my face, I gave him a toothy grin. "Because he called you an idiot."

James snorted with laughter. "Merlin's beard, Rosie."

"And I'm the only one who's allowed to call you an idiot," I added thoughtfully, bringing my good hand up and popping his nose.

"Did you just boop my nose?"

"Yes, no, maybe so."

I hadn't told James the whole truth about the encounter I'd had with Matthias. How he had tried to get me alone, how he had hit me. Not because I didn't want James to know, but because I was afraid that he would do something stupid, putting him in a compromising situation. Gryffindors were blindly brave and loyal, and Slytherins were known to be tricky.

"How were your classes today?" I asked mindlessly, letting him trace lines up and down my arm. I think he was tracing the veins running the length of my arm.

"Good. If I get good grades in Transfiguration, McGonagall says she will teach me how to become a registered Animagus."

"You've told me before. That's exciting," I hummed, letting my eyes wander across the pages of the open book in my lap.

"Maybe I could teach you, when I'm done."

"Wouldn't that kind of be illegal?"

"Oh, yeah, that's right." He said it so nonchalantly I almost laughed. "You remember my cousin Teddy? He's a metamorphmagus. It's really cool; he can change his nose into a pig's snout."

I let James talk to me for a while, even though I wasn't quite listening. He knew it, too, but I was positively convinced he just liked to hear the sound of his own voice. Either that, or he was trying to avoid doing his schoolwork. As he chatted to me, someone interrupted him from around the corner, intruding my spot.

"Rosalie Flint?" It was Ali Longbottom.

"Hello, Longbottom," James said cheerfully.

"So it's true, then?" she asked distractedly. "You two are dating?"

Before James could reply, I stated coolly, "Is that why you've interrupted our studies?"

She flushed. "Oh, no. Um, Mcgonagall has requested to see you."

Slightly shocked, I muttered an "oh" before heaving myself onto my feet. "Did she say what she wanted?"

Ali shook her head, hair falling from her shoulders in waves. "No; she just wants you in her study immediately. She says it's of great importance."

My eyes fell on James' crouched form, still on the library floor. "I'll be right back. Try to get some actual work done."

He grinned, and I hurried out of the library silently, in an effort to not bother any of the other students who were studying. Ali Longbottom followed me out, before she departed from behind me and went on her own way.

The walk to the Headmistress' study was not far from the library. I found the familiar, majestic statue of an eagle in the corridor, and whispered the password calmly. As a Prefect, I was required to keep up to date with the study's password.

Stones groaned against the walls as it started to turn. Standing on the platform, I was encased by the eagle's wings, and taken to the doors of McGonagall's study. Politely, I knocked on the heavy doors.

"Enter," croaked McGonagall, and I obeyed.

"You asked to see me, Headmistress," I stated, coming to a halt before her large desk.

Through her spectacles, she looked up at me, and sat up, placing her quill down gingerly. Despite her elderly age, she was extremely intense. "Miss Flint," she greeted tersely. "Please, have a seat."

Guiding myself to the chair before her, I sat down.

"I have just received some news regarding your brother."

I stiffened, the subject of my family still too soon to approach. I was still bitter with resentment towards them. "I have no brother," I said coldly.

McGonagall took off her spectacles, holding them in her wrinkled hands. "Of course."

"What is it?" I prompted.

"The letter is from St. Mungo's Hospital. Marcus Flint the Second committed suicide last night, in his own home. His body is being held at St. Mungo's presently."


	34. All Alright

**A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue :) Thanks for all of the reviews! Inspired by All Alright by Fun. **

**Chapter 33 - All Alright**

"Are you sure you want to go?" James questioned, giving me a look.

I straightened my dress. It was black, and hung off of my thin frame. My expression was somber, my hair and jewelry simple and respectable. I turned my head, replying, "I have to be there. I don't owe my family a lot of things, but I owe Marcus this."

Headmistress McGonagall stood by her hearth, a pouch of floo powder in her grasp. "Return to my study by 2 o'clock this afternoon. If you do not, you will be expelled from Hogwarts. The rules are very strict, Rosalie Flint, do you understand them?"

Nodding my head, I said, "I understand."

"Take some floo powder."

Cupping my hand, I gripped some of the sandy substance, and stepped into the fireplace. With a heavy, tight voice, I said clearly, "Vablatsky Funeral Home."

Having flooed before, I was prepared for the sickening, twisting sensation. I was ready for the blurred vision, the sudden nauseous. But as soon as it had started, it stopped, and I was in an unfamiliar room, full of unfamiliar people.

It was gravely silent. Everyone was cloaked in black robes and black attire, to represent the presence of Death. A line had formed, everyone waiting to view the body of my dead flesh and blood.

Why was I here? After being disowned, I had always convinced myself that I no longer cared about the Flint family. I had told myself that if something were to happen to them, I would never show my face.

But, I supposed, suicide was different. The saddest thing someone could do was take their own life, to decide that they no longer deserved to live, to breathe. Marcus wasn't a horrible person; he was only raised in a horrible family.

Now that he was dead, I could remember things about him that I hadn't remembered before. His enthusiasm about Quidditch during school, the mischievous gleam he used to get in his eyes as a boy, the one time he took the blame for breaking Mother's favorite vase, and received a slap to the cheek that I had deserved.

My eyes were trained on my hands, my lips white. I took a few steps forward, along with the line.

Why had he killed himself? The question floated around inside of my head the entirety of my trip. As I shuffled closer to his casket, I couldn't help myself as I envisioned his last moments alive. How had he killed himself? What had he looked like? Had he been afraid? Or numb?

And then, I stood before his open coffin, and peered at him.

Marcus laid so still. His skin was white, his black hair combed finely. He wore a suit, and even had a watch clasped around his wrist. But he was so still.

He could have been sleeping, if it weren't for the fact that I knew he was dead.

Forcing myself to look away, I moved on. There, beside his casket, stood my mother and father. Marcus and Calliope Flint. They saw me, both at the same time, and I witnessed their eyes grow steely, their postures ridged. They looked tired but just as cold as ever. As I passed them, keeping eye contact with my mother as I walked, I said not one word to them. I had nothing to say.

Beside them was Mariette.

She was dressed in black, as everyone was. Her crystalline eyes were wet with tears, but whether they were real or not, I couldn't tell. Her blonde hair had been curled, cascading past her acute shoulders.

"Rosalie," she gasped delicately. She had always been the delicate sister. "You're here."

"Of course I am," I said reservedly. "He might have no longer been my brother, but he was still my flesh and blood."

She leaned away from me, setting her chin. I watched her for a moment, briefly thinking about Lily Luna Potter. Sweet Lily was more of a sister to me in one weekend than Mariette had ever been to me. I tried to step away from her, but she suddenly grabbed my hand. She brought me close to her, and kissed my cheek. I was confused, but then I realized that she had transferred a wad of paper into my hand. She looked away, refusing to meet my eyes again.

Tearing myself out of line, I found my way to the bathroom and shut myself in, opening the crumpled paper. It had a simple, brief statement scrawled onto it. Marcus' handwriting.

_To my remaining sister, Mariette, _

_Despite what Mother and Father will say, this was a suicide. I chose this. I killed myself. They'll say it was an accident. They'll blame someone. They won't let anyone know that their son ended his own life. But that's what happened, and you deserve the truth. _

_Our parents are liars. Rosalie had it right when she left. Do not get caught in their webs. Our parents are liars. _

_Marcus Flint II_

The words tugged at my heart. Hurriedly, I stashed the paper away in her bag, and ran my hands over my face tiredly. Abandoning the restroom, I barely had time to recuperate before I ran into the last person I wanted to have a conversation with.

"Why are you here?" my mother asked coldly, towering over me with her willowy frame and high heels.

"To pay my respects," I snapped, gathering my wits.

"You were not invited," she berated.

"I don't recall it being an 'invite only' event."

"You're father is furious," she stated.

I said, "You two have made it very clear that he is no longer my father. And I don't have to do this. I was leaving anyways."

"You do not have the right to speak to me like that."

"I can do whatever the hell I want, _Calliope_," I bit, crossing my arms across my chest.

She pointed a thin, bony finger accusingly at me, icy eyes piercing me like daggers. "How dare you come to my son's funeral and talk in such a manner to me? It's your fault he's dead. Your father told you not to testify against Dolohov. He said it would create unwanted enemies. Look what you've done!"

"You're going to blame me? Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a lunatic! Crazy as an old bat!" I spat. I pulled the crumbled paper from my purse and shoved it at her. "Here, take a look! No one murdered Marcus. He killed himself."

My mother's eyes read the words. Once. Twice. Then, she dropped it on the ground. "You're a lot of things, Rosalie Flint, but a liar? How despicable."

"I'm not a liar. Marcus killed himself to get away from you and the life you forced onto him!"

She lifted her hand and clapped it against my cheek. The contact stung, and I took a step back, holding my face. My mother straightened her posture, looking down at me like I was a dog.

"Hitting me won't change the monsters you and Father are," I said venomously. "I'm glad you disowned me, you know. Our family fell apart a long time ago, if you could even call it a family. It turned to ash and dust. It became corrupt."

"Our family is in tact and stronger without you."

"Obviously not." I gestured to the funeral home. "I'm glad you disowned me, because I found a better family."

"Oh, really?" she snapped. "Who could replace your own flesh and blood?"

"My new family," I began my voice strangely strong, contradicting how I truly felt in the shadow of my mother: scared and weak. "It's made up of the people you told me were disgusting. A waste of oxygen. Blood traitors, a handicap, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors... they love me more than you ever did. And if you hadn't disowned me, I would have never met them. Felt their affection. I might have never loved. _They are my real family_."

"You are an abhorrence. A stain on our family tree. You revolt me."

"Good," I challenged. "Let it be so. I will never be as repugnant as you and Father. I have no more to say to you."

* * *

><p>There was something peaceful about still water. It was calming to watch it, see the reflection of the sky and the trees, watch the little fish and tadpoles create ripples. I sat on the banks of the Black Lake with a curious expression, my lips slightly parted, legs crossed ladylike.<p>

"What are you doing out here?"

I patted the earth next to me, willing James to sit beside me. "Listen."

He sat obediently, quirking his head, trying to listen like I'd told him to. "I don't hear anything," he said, confused.

"I know. Isn't it beautiful?" I gently laid on my back, letting my black hair fan out around the crown of my head. I beckoned James to do the same, our shoulders touching. I watched the clouds blow across the sky, swirling and fading. It was like a canvas, as if an artist had just painted the sky into existence, the paint still wet. I felt like I could reach out, and the wet blue paint would stain my fingertips.

James held my hand. I had come to discover that he rather liked to touch me. He always had his hand on me, one way or another. On my arm, against my side. When we walked, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. When we talked, he let his fingers dance on my bare skin. Like he wanted to reassure himself I was still there. It was endearing, and after years of remaining untouched, I was always aware. I reveled in it.

"You're weird," he said to me.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes." He glanced at me. "You still haven't told me about what happened at the funeral."

"I saw my brother," I said, after a moment. "He was cold. He was gone. It made me feel sad, even though he hadn't talked to me once since my parents had disowned me. I bickered with my mother, but for some reason, it gave me a sense of closure."

"How so?"

"Because the argument made me realize something." I shut my eyes. I liked to shut them. I was tired of being tired.

"And what was that?"

"That I don't need them. Because I have a new family."

For a minute, I listened to him breathe. It was relaxing.

At last, I felt like I was at peace. Before, I had never been at peace. I was always angry, always upset. But finally, I wasn't. I was content, and even though it was an unknown feeling, it was wonderful.

"Are you okay?"

Opening my eyes, I leaned over and planted a firm kiss on his lips. I liked being able to steal kisses whenever I wanted to. "Yeah, I am. I'm more than okay."

* * *

><p><em>The third of May, two thousand and twenty one<em>

_Miss Rosalie Flint,_

_You are cordially invited to the Slug Club's final party of the semester, to celebrate the end of the term and to commence the beginning of summer holidays. There will be dancing, and refreshments will be served. Dress formally. _

_Yours expectantly, Professor Slughorn_

* * *

><p>"Next," Professor Slughorn said pleasantly. "We will dance a centuries old waltz. Please, find a partner. It would be rude not to dance, you know." He chuckled at himself.<p>

James offered me his hand dramatically. "May I have this dance, m'lady?"

I wrinkled my nose, accepting his hand, letting his lead me to the dance floor. Holding them out, he put his free hand on my waist, and I placed my other hand on his shoulder gently.

"Just a forewarning: I'm rubbish at dancing," he said, before the music began to slowly play.

The hum of the cello echoed within the room. I arched my neck to get a look at the musicians, but I couldn't see their faces from my point of view. "I expected as much. Just follow me."

Guiding him, the skirt of my dress brushed against the floor as we stepped back and forth to the beat of the music. "I didn't know you knew how to dance," he said contemplatively.

"It's traditional for the children of purebloods to be accustomed with such things," I said to him. "Growing up, I went to countless balls. The girl who could dance the most gracefully was the one everyone kept their eyes on."

"Huh."

"Twirl me."

At the climax of the waltz, he spun me gingerly, along with all of the other couples. Returning back to his arms, my eyes met his again. They were light, full of mirth and quiet laughter. They were deep and immense, like an ocean; there was always something else to explore. I leaned in closer to him, the familiar scent of spearmint providing me with a sense of comfort.

"Avery's watching you," James muttered as we swayed. "Should I go kick his ass?"

I peered over his shoulder. There was Matthias, his icy stare every now and then flickering over to us. "As much as I'd enjoy watching that, there's no need. And I don't want to talk about him right now. He's not worth it."

"Fair enough." Another spin. "Did Madame Rosmerta give you your old job back?"

After giving my boss an explanation, she hadn't been reluctant to give me back my position as a barmaid. While I wasn't exactly excited about my job, it was, indeed, a job. I was blessed enough that McGonagall had let me continue working. With all of the trouble I'd caused in the past few months, I was worried she wouldn't let me continue working outside of school.

"Yes," I replied. "So it's back to cleaning tables and serving stingy men ale." I shrugged. "But I am thankful for the work."

"It's only until school ends, right?" he asked. "Are you still thinking of getting into Quidditch?"

Sighing, I shook my head. "I don't know. As much as I'd enjoy that, working with potions wouldn't be terrible. I think I'm going to have to wait until next year to figure anything out."

"Good idea." James' eyes flickered over the length of my body. Gently, his finger trailed down the scar that ran from my hairline to the corner of my right eye. A scar that would always mar me, there to remind me of the night I could have died. I almost died. "You look beautiful tonight, you know that?"

The song ended, but we still stood there, staring at one another for what was a brief moment, but felt like an eternity. My hands clasped around his neck, and his wrapped around my waist. His dipped his head and kissed the scar on my forehead. Lifting my own lips, I quickly caught his, leaning into him. My fingers slipped up, ruffling his hair, holding him to me.

"Get a room," Molly, James' cousin, taunted, coming up behind him and shoving his shoulder. He fell away from me, a boyish grin lighting up his face.

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea, eh?" James laughed.

"This party was starting to get boring, anyways," I added helpfully, the taste of his lips still on mine.

My hand curled around his, and with a playful smirk, I towed him out of the room. Leaving the light of the party, we stumbled into the dark corridor, barely able to see each others faces. He lumbered behind me, my shoes clicking against the stone floor, my heart beat growing erratic.

We were unable to contain ourselves any longer.

James spun me around, crashing his lips against mine. I kneaded my fingers in his hair as he pushed me against the wall, his large hands around my shoulders. Our lips molded together, working against each other, him and I both fighting for dominance. I arched my hips, grinding them into his, fitting against him like his other half.

Trailing kisses from his mouth to the nape of his neck, I breathed, "We should go somewhere more private." The idea of being caught by the other Prefects wasn't exactly tantalizing.

He nodded mindlessly, breaking away and stringing me along. Blindly, I followed, allowing myself to enter a frenzied stupor. There was a click as he unlocked a classroom, pushing me into it, locking it behind us to ensure privacy.

Fumbling, I cleared a desk, pushing the objects that lingered on its surface to the floor. As they clattered, I pushed him against it, kissing his chin and then finding my way back to his lips. The straps of my dress loosely slipped from my shoulders, the neckline scooping lower than it should. My hair fell from its updo, disheveled.

The feeling of wandering hands, the ecstasy of his lips on me, the low groan emitting from the back of his throat; everything was befuddling my thoughts. My hands slithered up his shirt, undoing the buttons and pushing it from his torso. They roamed his bare chest and shoulders wildly.

Roughly, he lifted me onto the table, my skirt riding up mid-thigh. Pulling him into the space between my legs, I wrapped them around his waist, and we snogged ourselves into oblivion.

* * *

><p><em>One Year Later<em>

My face was different. The structure was more elegant, more mature. I had lost any childlike qualities over the past two years; they had vanished, leaving me with a sophisticated look.

I looked like I was finally ready to go out into the world and establish a reputation of my own.

Not one associated with the Flints, with Marcus and Calliope. My days with them were far behind me. I refused to let anyone make a connection with them and me. I was my own person; I was no longer their disowned daughter, a traitor, cut off. I was stronger than them, fiercer.

In the end, they had lost. I had won.

Graduation ceremonies were incredibly tedious. I sat with my house, opposite of the Gryffindors. Every now and then, my eyes would flicker to James, to find him either making faces at McGonagall or staring back at me.

James had also grown. He had aged, both mentally and physically. He was still a boy at heart, but there was something else in his eyes now. It was knowledge, it was experience.

Managing through the ceremony, I was anxious to leave, ready to be free from Hogwarts. I felt like a bird, trapped inside of a cage. McGonagall was about to open the cage door, and I was about to burst free.

I was ready to fly.

Dressed in graduation robes, I mounted the stage when the headmistress called my name. It reminded me of my first day at Hogwarts, during the Sorting Ceremony. Sternly, she handed me my graduation scroll. It was funny how much of my future that piece of paper determined. She shook my hand tersely, and I climbed down.

But there something different about me, now that I held that scroll.

I was done at Hogwarts. My time there was over.

After she had finished handing out graduation scrolls, she led us outside. To the edge of the Black Lake. And, in a symbolic manner, she sent us off in rowboats. Just as we had arrived as first years.

It was the end, but it was also the beginning.

I shared a boat with James and Fred. Holding James' hand, I smiled at him. "Can you believe it?"

"We did it!" he cheered. "We're done."

Nodding, I leaned into him.

"Don't be mad, Rose."

"About what?"

"Out boat is going to flip."

Just then, the rowboat began to rock back and forth. I stared at him, eyes widening. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Too late."

And all of the graduated students were dumped into the waters of the Black Lake. Splashing against the surface, it encased me, the cool water caressing my bare skin and soaking through my robes. Waving my arms, I pushed myself back up to the surface, James and Fred laughing hysterically.

"One last prank was called for," James said to me with a huge grin on his face.

I dunked his head, pushing his face underneath the water. "You twats!"

Gasping, he popped back up, splashing me playfully. "Sorry, love."

"You're not allowed to call me that anymore," I yelled, kicking water at him. "Potter!"


	35. Epilogue

**Chapter 34 - Epilogue**

_Five Years_

"James," I began with a shaky voice, inhaling sharply and trying to keep myself composed. "For the first five years I knew you, I absolutely hated you."

My words earned severely chuckles from those who watched.

"But when I needed someone, it was you who was there for me, in the end. With you by my side, I learned how to love and grow. And you don't go through something like that without becoming attached to that one person. I stand here, before everyone, and promise to you that every day I will try to be worthy of your affection. In your eyes, I have found my home. And in your heart, I have found my love."

"Rosie," he said, brushing his long fingers over my cheek. His pet name for me warmed me, bring a faint blush to my cheeks. "You are the moon to my stars. You are the sugar to my coffee. You are the buldger to my bat."

The congregation laughed.

"You are my other half. I can't imagine being without you. And I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with you." He held up his hand. "I pinky swear to love you forever. To walk by your side, to hold your hand, to guide you back to the light when you are trapped in the darkness. I love you, Rosalie."

The priest summoned the rings, which the best man Albus delivered, and had us slid the other's ring on. "I hereby declare you bonded for life. The groom may kiss the bride."

The largest smile that had ever graced my face found its way to my lips. With great exuberance, James pulled me to him and his lips met mine. The crowds of friends and family stood as they cheered, clapping for the both of us. But I couldn't hear them; my attention was only for James.

"I give you James and Rosalie Potter!"

Breaking away, breathless, he grinned and took my hand. As if he had just one a battle, he lifted up my arm into the air and I let a laugh bubble out of my mouth. Then, James wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me once more.

It had been done. I was married to James Potter.

It was the happiest moment of my life.

* * *

><p><em>Seven Years <em>

The flat was small and tightly fit. It smelled of mahogany and wet paints. With a smile, I ran my fingers over the freshly painted wall and grinned. "Wow, you and Freddie did a really fantastic job."

"Don't sound so surprised," James said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "But, yeah, we did do a pretty fantastic job."

"Show me our room?" I asked.

His eyes glinted with mirth as he led me to our bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it was compact, yet it had a homey atmosphere. Our bed nearly covered the entire floor, save for a small space for the dressers and a pathway that outlined around the skirt of the bed. The walls were a light shade of green, and the bed comforter matched. The window, which claimed most of the wall opposite of the doorway, looked over the bustling city.

Sighing heavily, I plopped myself down onto the bed. James soon followed, stretching out his arms over his head. "Can you believe it? We're finally here, Rosie."

"No, I don't believe it. It's perfect."

Exhaustion rolled over me. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I'd laid down.

"Tired?"

"You have no idea," I grumbled. "You gain an extra thirty pounds and then you will know my pain."

He chortled and his hand found my stomach. "Hasn't even been born yet, and he's already being a little bugger."

"She," I corrected pertinaciously.

"He."

I threw him a look, but ended the bickering by not retorting. After a moment of silence, I wrapped my fingers around his and held my swollen stomach with a maternal pride. "Just another month, and we'll have a baby."

"Weird," James commented.

"A little." I turned my head, peering up at him. I noticed some stubble growing on his face, and with my free hand I ran my fingers down his jawline gently. "Are you scared?"

He sighed, also turning his head to face me. We were close enough that our noses were almost touching. "Maybe. I don't know. If Teddy can be a father, I don't see how I could be any worse."

"Your words inspire such confidence."

James laughed. "Yeah. They're going to have a hard time with Nymphadora. I heard her hair's already changing colors. When she's mad, it turns red. At least they have Andromeda to help out."

"And Victoire's pregnant again." Inhaling deeply, my chest rose and fell. "I wonder if she's going to have another Metamorphmagus."

"How many kids do you want to have?" he asked me.

"Let me give birth to this one first. Then I'll get you an answer."

"Because I would prefer to have a small army of children," James said fondly. "Maybe some of them would be ginger!"

I snorted with a smile on my face. "Yeah, okay. We'll see."

"So, I was thinking that we should name him Sirius," he continued. "Or maybe Arthur."

"If it's a boy, we are not naming him Arthur," I chided.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like that name."

"I'm offended."

"No you're not, you tosser." I slapped his arm. "Besides, it's going to be a girl, so we don't even have to worry about boy names." Contemplatively, I added, "How about we give the baby an original name?"

"What?"

"A name that hasn't been used," I said thoughtfully. "Break tradition a little bit. We could come up with our own name for the child. It doesn't have to be a family name."

He thought about it briefly. "I could do that. I like that idea."

I smiled.

* * *

><p>"Did it hurt?" James asked.<p>

"Did you not hear my screeches of pain?" I snapped. "Yeah, it was pretty fucking painful, pushing an infant out of my fucking-."

"Okay, no, don't use that word," James said, shivering slightly. "No, no."

Wiping beads of sweat from my forehead, I allowed myself to be swallowed up into my blankets and pillows. I waited with impatience for the healer to bring back our child, wanting to know with desperation the sex of the baby. I had waited nine months; I was done being patient.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" The healer trudged into the room, holding a bundle in her arms gently. "Are you ready to find out if it's a girl or a boy?" She smiled.

James stood up, peering at the baby. "What is it?"

I laughed, despite my state at the moment, at his choice of wording. "We're reading, Madame."

She delivered the child into my arms, and instantly I felt complete. It was like my heart had been missing a piece, and only the baby could have put it back together. With it in my arms, I was whole and so incredibly joyous. I forgot about the pain, totally disregarding it. Because as soon as I saw the child's face, I knew that no amount of pain would have kept me from it.

The healer said to James and me, "It's a baby girl."

"Fucking knew it," I said with a grin as I coddled the baby.

The woman seemed appalled by my language. James didn't even say a word about being wrong; he seemed entranced by her, the new addition to our family.

"Do you want to hold her?"

"What if I drop her?"

I smiled. "You won't. Go on, take her."

Tentatively, he scooped the little bundle into his arms. A smile claimed his features. "Hello, baby. It's okay, Dada's got you."

Something wet leaked from my eyes. I wiped my hands over my face; I hadn't realized I was crying. I didn't bother to compose myself, a pure happiness rooting itself within me, a happiness that couldn't be destroyed by anything.

"A name," he said lightly. "She needs a name. Gwenog."

"We are not naming her after a Quidditch player," I said to him.

"It was worth a shot."

I stared at her. She was sleeping, cradled in James' arms, tiny breaths puffing in and out of her mouth. He leaned over, so I could get a very good look at her face. It was too early to decide who she looked like the most, but she was absolutely the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. Maybe I was being biased, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Willa," I said decidedly. "Willa Potter."

His face contorted for a brief moment, at first evidently disliking the name. But, as he rolled the name on his tongue, he stopped his protest. "Willa," he repeated, trying it out. "Willa. I like it, actually. Willa."

"A middle name?"

"Willa... Ginevra. Willa Ginevra Potter. That way, we'll follow tradition just a little bit. And my mum won't chew me out completely."

"I came as fast as I could!" came a voice from behind us. I craned my neck to find a flustered Lily Potter straightening herself, cheeks tinted pink and hair blown from her face. Breathlessly, she said, "Where's the baby?"

James turned his body, showing the bundle to Lily. Just as she began to coo, another form entered the room. His turquoise blue hair gave away his identity and he grinned.

Handing off Willa to Lily, James embraced Teddy. "Welcome to Fatherhood!" Teddy shouted.

The nurse shushed him up.

"Oh, right." He grinned sheepishly. "Welcome."

"How are you feeling?" Lily asked me, holding Willa with a sweet smile on her face.

"Tired. But I'm alright." I reached towards her, and she let me take Willa into my arms. Nestling the newborn, I could feel her heartbeat against mine. The feeling was familiar to me; I had felt estranged without it.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Teddy asked James, and Lily turned to listen in.

"A girl," James said proudly.

"Her name?" Lily prodded.

"Willa Ginevra," he declared.

"It's perfect!" his sister squealed quietly. "James, I'm so happy for you!" She hugged him.

"Where's everyone else, then?" Teddy questioned.

"We wanted you two to be the first to arrive," I explained from my spot in my bed. "Because we have something very important to tell you."

"What is it?" the redheaded girl inquired, brown eyes widening.

"James and I have made you two Willa's godparents," I revealed happily.

Lily smacked James' arm. "No way! No way! Merlin's beard, I'm a godmother!"

Laughing at her reaction, I took a moment to observe my happy family. Cuddling Willa to my breast, my arms wrapped lovingly around her, I couldn't remember one moment before that had made me feel so utterly completed.

* * *

><p><em>Twenty Years<em>

The coal black Hogwarts Express whistled shrilly. Crowds of students and families swam around the train, the crowd thickening as more and more appeared on platform 9 and 3/4.

"Have you put your things on the train?" I asked Willa and Sirius.

They both nodded in unison.

Willa shouted, "I see Nym!"

On cue, Nymphadora turned and waved to Willa. Running to greet her best friend, they embraced, as if they hadn't seen each other in years, when the reality was they had seen each other just the night before.

"Where's Ethan?" Sirius pouted, crossing his arms. "I don't see him anywhere."

"Don't worry, he'll be here soon," I assured my only son. "You know Jared and Kate, always running late. Oh look, there's Auntie Rose and Uncle Scorpius!"

James, who was standing beside me, peered over the bobbing heads of the sea of strangers. A pair of arms were wrapped around his neck, and occasionally I would catch a glimpse of Hadley and her coppery hair.

"What can you see from up there, Hadders?" James questioned playfully.

The five year old hoisted herself higher. "I see a train!"

"Anything else?"

"It's a nice train."

"Good to know."

There was so much commotion that I found my head spinning. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and tugged my family towards Teddy and Victoire. Willa and Nym chatted animatedly beside the two, the latter's hair a vivid purple.

After familial greetings had passed, Hadley climbed down from James' shoulders and tried to bud into the thirteen year old girls' conversation. Her hair, brown but tainted with Weasley orange, was tangled, but she had stubbornly refused to brush it that morning.

I held back a laugh as she vied for their attention.

"Has Andromeda already left for Beauxbatons?" I asked Victoire.

The blonde nodded. "Yes, she left earlier this week."

I made to reply, but the words left me as I strayed from her and my eyes found two familiar faces. Faces I hadn't seen in a very long time.

Dressed in handsome robes, her hair curled and pinned up, was Mariette. Beside her was Sophie Goulding, and in between them was a young child, most likely entering his first year of Hogwarts.

She caught my eye. We stared at each other for a moment, her eyes capturing me. Finally, she lifted her hand and waved gently, and the smallest of smiles upturned her lips. Slowly, I waved back, and she turned out of sight. Letting out a short breath, I looked down at my hands.

It was the first time I'd seen her in over twenty years. And she had smiled at me.

"Was that your sister?" James inquired, craning his neck.

Nodding, I sighed. "Yeah. It was."

The train whistled again, startling me. "Alright everyone, it's time to get onto the train!"

Willa bounded away from Nym and wrapped her slender arms around me. "Bye, Mum! See you at Christmas!"

I kissed her forehead. "Be safe. Be smart, Willa. Look after your brother, it's his first year."

"You'll be fine, Sirius," James said dismissively, ruffling his hair. "Unless you're put in Slytherin. Then we might have to disown you."

"James!" I snapped. "You can't just say that!" I held Sirius by his shoulders. "Listen to me, it doesn't matter what House you are put in. I used to think it did matter, but it truly doesn't. I was Slytherin, your father was a Gryffindor... who knows, maybe you won't be either. Maybe you'll be a Ravenclaw."

"Okay, Mum." Sirius gave me a toothy grin, and also hugged me.

"I'm going to miss you. You better write to me, you hear?"

"Yes, Mum," he groaned, pulling away. "Oh, look, there's Ethan! Bye Dad!"

Peeking through the crowds, I caught a glimpse of Kate and Jared. I waved to them as Sirius and Willa departed from me, and Kate gave me an eccentric wave in return, eyes widening and a happy smile appearing on her face.

"I want to go, Dada!" Hadley cried out, climbing up James to get a good look at her siblings as they climbed onto the express.

"Not this year, sweetheart," James said. "Wave goodbye to Willa and Sirius!"

Children flooded onto the train, and soon it jolted, the whistle blowing once more before it set into motion. Hadley flailed her arms as Willa and Sirius shouted their goodbyes in return. They positioned themselves in a compartment with Nymphadora, Ethan, and Cassiopeia Malfoy, whose blonde hair was a frizzy mess.

"Bye bye!" Hadley yelled.

The train started to roll away, and before we knew it, it had left the station. As the crowds began to dispatch, the Hogwarts Express now gone, I turned to James and Hadley.

"Ready to go home, Hadders?" I asked her.

"No," she said, crossing her arms. "Dada promised ice cream."

I gave him a look.

"How do you think I got her into the car?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I rolled my eyes.

* * *

><p>A box sat at the edge of the bed, opened, its lid discarded on the side. I had rummaged thoroughly through it, and items were scattered everywhere. There were mostly photographs, but among them were plenty of other things. It was my Memory Box, something I had started years and years ago. It was a collection of things I held very dearly in my heart. Things I never wanted to forget.<p>

There were photographs of my children, taken at different times in their lives. Willa, when she was four, covered in flour because she had been snooping in the kitchen. Sirius and his master collection of Chocolate Frog cards. Hadley's floating head, the rest of her body wrapped in James' invisibility cloak.

The girls were more like James, personality-wise, Hadley more so. Sirius was like me, in a lot of ways, for the better and for the worse.

I studied their faces in one of the pictures. It wasn't moving, like most photos in the wizarding world. It had been taken with a Muggle camera. The there of them were lined up, in height order, staring at the camera with smiling expressions. They all had different hair colors, something that had always amused me. Willa's was a light brown, Sirius' dark like mine, and Hadley's was the color of copper.

Sighing, I stashed it away. I dug up a picture of a family, from over twenty years ago. They wore stiff expressions, their clothes lavishing, their postures rippling an aura of superiority.

It was the Flints. Marcus, Calliope, Marcus the second, Mariette, and myself. It saddened me, knowing that three out of the five had passed away. Both of my parents had died before I could ever reconcile with them. A part of me hated myself for it, too.

My eyes swept over the image of me. I was fifteen in that picture; young and beautiful. But terribly unhappy. I looked angry, so angry. And I looked sad.

"Taking a trip down memory lane?" James' voice broke the tense silence. He leaned up against the door frame, arms crossed, watching me.

Nodding, I showed him the picture. "Just thinking."

He walked over to me, taking the photo and glancing at it, before putting it away. He sat next to me, and we both collapsed onto the bed, our shoulders touching, our legs sprawled out on top of scattered pictures.

James' hand wrapped around mine, and I averted my eyes to him.

"You're still pretty beautiful," he said, after a moment. "For an old person, that is."

"I am not old!" I retorted. "I'm only thirty seven! Which is... not old."

James laughed, lifting his free hand and tucking some hair behind my ear. "Is that a gray hair?"

I shoved him away as he chortled to himself. "Did you come in here just to make fun of me?" I fired. "Because if that's so, you're not allowed to hold my hand, wanker."

"I'm only teasing," he laughed. "I'm just teasing!"

"Well, I don't think it's funny!" I clamored, slapping him again.

Folding his legs, he faced me. His eyes traced my features; my eyes, my nose, my lips. He grinned, laugh lines creasing as he did so. And it dawned on me that, perhaps, we were a little old. Just a little.

"Come here," He offered, patting the spot beside him.

Begrudgingly, I sat next to him. "You're not allowed to call me old. Not unless you want to sleep on the couch," I warned him, readjusting my position next to him.

"Deal. Besides, I didn't really come here to talk."

"Then what did you come in here for?"

"Hadley's in bed, asleep. Willa and Sirius are gone..."

The suggestive tone cause a grin to sprout on my face, and I pressed my lips into his before he could say anything else. His hands cupped my face as we fell backwards once again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And there you have it, folks. The end of Venomous. I actually might write up a family tree thing, just to clear up confusion and whatnot. **

**But, anyways, thank you so much for all of your reviews and continued support! This is officially my first finished multi-chapter fanfiction. Ever! WEee! Thank you so much!**


	36. Not Quite A Chapter

**A/N: So, like I said I would, I'm just going to post the family trees, along with Houses of their children :) I'm not going to go too far into detail, just because ti would be very confusing and time consuming. If you have any questions, or want to know anything, feel free to send me an ask or leave your questions in a review. **

**James Potter and Rosalie Potter nee Flint**

Willa Ginevra - Gryffindor

Sirius Marcus - Slytherin

Hadley Rose - Gryffindor

**Albus Potter and Ciaran Potter nee Mulligan **

William Thomas - N/A (Squib)

**Johnathon Thomas and Lily Luna Thomas nee Potter **

Harry Alexander - Gryffindor

Elijah James - Ravenclaw

Claire Luna - Ravenclaw

Percy Elias - Gryffindor

**Teddy Lupin and Victoire Lupin nee Weasley **

Andromeda Marie - N/A (Attended Beauxbatons)

Nymphadora Apolline - Gryffindor

Cosette Gabrielle - Hufflepuff

**Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Malfoy nee Weasley **

Cassiopeia Jean - Slytherin

Nicholas Arthur - Gryffindor

Carina Narcissa - Slytherin

**Mariette Goulding-Flint and Sophie Goulding-Flint **

Tristan Goulding-Flint - Ravenclaw

**Jared Olinik and Kate Olinik nee Levesque **

Ethan Tobias - Slytherin

**Fred Weasley and Iris Weasley **

Fabian Greyson - Gryffindor


End file.
